


In the Bleak Midwinter

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: 13x5 Multiverse [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle, Character Death Fix, Childhood Trauma, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Needs Therapy, Eye Trauma, Fix-It of Sorts, Frozen Teardrop has a lot to answer for, Garbage cat, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mecha, Mental Health Issues, Multiverse, Parent/Child Incest, Post-War, Prisoner of War, Sleepy Cuddles, Trauma, Treize gets a dog, random cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 88,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: Something that had happened down in the office had been bothering him, wanting to come out. The veil of pretending had been pulled down, perhaps, and there was an unspeakable relief in having it said out loud, in having argued with Treize. Someone that smart shouldn't be that much of an idiot. As if there would only be one right way to end things? ZERO was fucked up and weirdly layered. It gave battle statistics, yes, but it also had a limited future function if someone fiddled with it long enough, and Wufei had.Wufei hadlooked. Treize had apparently been happy to end witheveryone goes on but me. And whatever had driven him to stop looking in ZERO was still in his head. Whatever it was that made a man just tap out hadn't magically resolved itself, which was a shame because Treize was carrying on as if it had. He couldn't fix that. Didn't know where to start unpicking that rats' nest in the man's skull, and it wasn't his responsibility.
Relationships: Chang Wufei/Treize Khushrenada
Series: 13x5 Multiverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944529
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A flipped version of [The Empress's Third](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708089) because we wanted to write the same trope twice with a different twist.
> 
> My co-authors love me even when I make them write the same plot twice to see what happens. A re-work of the concept of is the [Emotional Intelligence Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186436)

The cell was clean, well ventilated, and had a small niche with a combination toilet and sink that afforded a modicum of privacy from the two narrow cots that were bolted to the floor. They had been allowed a few books, light modern fiction. No lawyer, no contact with the outside, nothing except the guard who would unlock the grate at the bottom of the door to slide them their meal trays and take them out to the showers every other day or so.

At least he was locked in his cell with company, though Duo seemed to be wearing under the weight of the relative solitude.

"Are you going to meditate the entire time?"

Dark eyes peeked open and Wufei gave a long sigh. "How many times did you ask that when we were on the lunar base? Because the answer is going to be the same."

"Hah, but you're talking now, so you're not meditating," he countered, scuffing his soft prison slip on against the metal edge of the bed. "It's almost dinner time."

"Wonderful. Two terrible sandwiches, three bags of crisps, and something they call fruit punch that's just terrible colored water. I'm so excited." Duo wasn't bad company. He didn't do enforced alone time well at all and Wufei couldn't blame him.

His nerves had been on edge for so long that it was a bit of a relief to have at least come to an end of things. They'd made their bid and they had lost. Wufei's clan was dead. His assets were all well hidden, just in case he made it out of this alive, but he didn't actually expect to do so. Duo didn't, either. He wasn't sure about anyone but the two of them at this point; it wasn't like they were allowed out of their echoing cell block for any reason short of bleeding out or fire.

it was entirely possible that Heero and Quatre and Trowa were in cells somewhere nearby, but Duo had screamed and yelled and shouted and kicked the walls and banged his fists and there was never any response.

There was never any information, either.

Meditation was the only thing keeping him sane. He was pretty sure that Duo wasn't sane anymore. They were allowed pads of paper and stubby pencils that were more like crayons than writing instruments, but there wasn't anyone for either of them to write. Duo was an orphan from L2. What the hell did they think they were going to do, write coded messages and send them skittering along like a kite in the hopes someone might pass it along? Write their last will and testament? Who the hell knew.

The most exciting thing in weeks was when the door opened. Slowly at first, and then solidly, revealing that the internal wire door hadn't opened at all. There went Duo's theory that it was decorative.

And there stood Treize Khushrenada, alive. _Alive_ , and looking very much the worse for wear, dressed in normal enough clothes, bandages covering the left half of his face, and it wasn't hard to note that he was leaning stiffly on crutches. "Pilot 05. Pilot 02."

The childish urge rose up in him to point out that they both knew very well who they were and who he was, as well. Wufei managed to resist. Duo did not. "I know who we are, so who are you? 'Cause I was pretty sure Wufei killed General Khushrenada."

Yes, yes. Wufei was ever so grateful for drawing attention to that. Something about Duo's words made the man smile, a bitter, sad expression. "Unfortunately he did not deliver the killing blow. I was informed that my troops were ready to surrender, but were so rallied by my survival that we are now forming a unity government."

"Sounds exciting." Wufei's voice was dry, soft. "I feel sure that we'll hear about it soon." Considering they had no idea what the hell was going on anywhere. "I suppose I should have been more careful about where I thrust my spear."

"We'll have to improve your aim." Khushrenada inclined his head slightly, balancing carefully between the crutches. "It has been deemed too risky to repatriate any of you or simply free you. You are instead being remanded to custodial sentences. Pilot 02, you will be collected by Dorothy Catalonia's staff tomorrow."

Wufei wasn't sure he'd ever seen the purely floored expression on Duo's face before that very moment. "Wha... I... now wait a minute, she's crazy as hell!"

That wasn't exactly wrong, either. "I take it we're being parceled out to members of the unity government who can... handle us."

Khushrenada inclined his head again, a bare motion as he held Wufei's gaze. "Indeed you are. Walters, open the cell. Pilot 05 is coming with me." It wasn't just one guard, but two -- one with a gun and the other one with those damned full forearm cuffs.

"Aw, hell, no." Duo was up and between them, glaring at the guards. "Nah, that's not..."

Wufei put his hand on Duo's shoulder. "It's fine. Don't." It would end badly. "I'll go willingly."

"Best of luck with my cousin, 02." Treize backed up, moving with deliberation on the crutches while the guard opened the secondary door and trained the gun on Duo.

Wise men.

"It's fine," he said again, hands raised and ready to offer to the man with the cuffs. "Be careful. Catalonia's a crazy woman."

"Wufei..." He couldn't look at Duo. If he did, who knew what he'd do? Not Wufei. Probably not Duo, for the matter, he was wildly unpredictable on a good day.

They never should have put them in a cell together. And when would he see his fellow pilots again, any of them? The guard clicked the cuffs in place, and slipped the key into Khushrenada's shirt pocket. "Come, we're heading straight to Brussels."

It wasn't as if he could protest. What the hell did the man expect him to say? To agree that it was fine? Would it be better or worse than the execution they'd assumed was coming? He didn't know, and so he fell into step just behind him, waiting for him to lead the way. It was somewhat satisfying to see that there were pins in his left leg, and the fabric of his pants had been arranged to attempt to cover the supports. He was moving slowly but steadily on the crutches toward an elevator that opened for him. Some sort of proximity sensor, perhaps. The guards were still behind both of them, unsurprisingly enough, and Wufei could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising with every step. He almost wanted to bow his shoulders forward just to protect himself, but he would absolutely die before he let anyone know about it.

Nothing made sense, not with Khushrenada entering the elevator casually, leaning back against the elevator wall while Wufei and the guards entered. "We'll talk on the plane."

And what could he do except nod?

* * *

He had lied a bit. It was mostly out of anger and frustration and a hundred other things that he didn't want to deal with when he had been so close to everything falling into line. One perfect solution, and the end of his own personal history; his own personal future. 

And then Wufei had pulled the blow. 

He was silent during takeoff, Wufei tightly harnessed into a seat across from him on the narrow jet. It would be a quick flight and then he could turn the pilot loose into his room and work out what he was going to do.

He had absolutely no idea what that was or where to start or... well. Or anything. He had no idea about anything and he was a fucking disaster. Everything was a fucking disaster, and now he had... ownership, for lack of a better word, of a Gundam pilot.

What he had wanted to do was to retire to his estate in Brussels, work, recover, regroup, and try to get himself together during what was promising to be a rough transition to peacekeeping and demobilization while... living. Something. But the negotiations had stalled because his backers had insisted that OZ have a stake in the division of the pilots while any opportunity for repatriation was explored.

It hadn't even been a choice. Dorothy had suggested it, a gleam in her eyes, and Relena had agreed because she had her own preference, and Sally had looked at him with a grim expression because she was fond of the young man.

"We'll have to find something for you to do."

Dark eyes turned his way, the expression sharp somehow. "Ah? I had figured there was something specific you had in mind." God knows what he'd thought that might be.

"I got as far as aide-de-camp. I suspect you would be a highly entertaining but unhelpful aide-de-camp." He leaned back in the seat, trying to anticipate what the sharp look was for. "I meant it about your aim. Once I'm on my feet again, we're going to practice dueling."

"There is nothing wrong with my aim." That voice was sharp. "Just because you stupidly suicidally ran at me and I didn't destroy you utterly does not mean my aim was poor. You lived, and that was what I wanted. Your death would have been cheap and unfair to you or any of the others who died. Death upon death upon death, do you think that's a fitting tribute?"

"Yes." He wanted to rage except he'd tried to get Zechs to kill him and he hadn't, and Chang Wufei hadn't, and he'd been _so close_ to being done. He was hysterically exhausted and it could have been so easy. "My men would have surrendered."

"So placing the responsibility for your death on my head was perfectly acceptable?"

It wasn't as if he hadn't killed a rather large number of people already. That objection made no sense. He shouldn't have gone to collect Wufei himself. He should have just had someone move the pilot and gone home instead and dealt with him after a few days. A few weeks.

A few months. Zechs had always accused him of being a passive aggressive asshole. "How am I different from the academy cadets?"

That look on his face seemed... complicated. "Those were to punish you. You set them on my colony. They killed my wife. I wanted you to suffer as much as I did, and you dying alleviates that suffering."

"You wife died when those soldiers you cut down were still wetting the bed." He closed his eye tightly, feeling the other half of his face try to mirror the motion and just cause a nauseating wave of pain. Half the time he had a ridiculous urge to put his hands up to his missing eye, the damaged side of his face, as if that would somehow stop the pain if he could touch it. "But you are achieving suffering."

"War is war, General. As you well know. If you expect me to justify myself, I can't. I wouldn't know where to start. Can you?" He didn't sound angry. He didn't sound remorseful, either.

Treize laughed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed, a real laugh that swept him away and made his aching ribs hurt worse, because he remembered the same pilot swearing at him to kill him for winning the duel, and having left in pure shame and rage. What perfect irony, being lectured by Chang Wufei for the same thing.

"I can't say that was the reaction I was expecting."

He waved a hand at the pilot, trying to pull himself together while he wiped at his eye with his other hand, face half a rictus of pain, but fuck, the irony. Now he was sure that Dorothy had done it to keep him off balance and out of the fray. "The first duel, heh, you came at me so brave and so full of bravado, and I wanted to see you win. And now you have."

"You are incomprehensible." He sounded blank, as if Treize had startled him with his reaction. "You are honestly just beyond my ken. Why do you even have me, anyway, if not for some sort of revenge?"

He kept chuckling to himself, wiping damp from his eye and swallowing as he tried to catch his breath. Finally the man seemed half composed. "Political expediency between the factions of the unity government. OZ had to take responsibility for one of the five."

"Ah. So. OZ takes me, Romafeller takes Duo, Sanc takes Heero..." Of course he would be curious about where everyone went. It was only natural.

"The remnants of the Alliance supporting forces take Trowa. Sanc vaguely takes Quatre through Noin, though she came back to Oz." He relaxed into the chair, watching Wufei and his curiosity. Perhaps he would make a useful aide-de-camp. "We suspect we'll be able to repatriate him back to L4 sometime in the next six months. After the elections."

That seemed to relax him somewhat. "Good. He's the only one of us with any family left, so that, that's good." Wufei paused, and Treize was somewhat surprised to realize that he was biting his lip. "Duo is... chaotic neutral. Dorothy Catalonia might not be the best place for him."

"It's out of my hands. I ceded my rule in favor of free elections. The balance is delicate." He had done the best he could in the circumstances, the only member of the unity government who was actively wounded and desperately wanting to find a place to safely crawl off to, to lick his wounds. "But I did not do this for revenge."

"Ah. To maintain the balance, then." He wasn't obligated to give any justification of his reasoning, but it was obvious that Wufei would be bothered if he didn't.

"You'll have private quarters. This can involve a surprising degree of freedom if you wish it to be. Or it can be a very tight gilded cage." In an ideal world, Wufei would roam free and he wouldn't have to concern himself with the pilot's comings and goings.

He was not living in an ideal world, and he knew it.

The younger man nodded slowly, gaze not directed at Treize. "Presumably I'm allowed books, since we were allowed them while imprisoned."

"Of course. There's a library, and if you want anything newer, that's fine. You'll have a datapad, but no transmit." He knew Wufei would work on that, would try to change something that was going to be crippled at the hardware level, and that perhaps pleased him a little. To give the pilot a small shard of frustration. "Staff serves breakfast at 0600, dinner at 1830. If you need anything else, you cook it yourself or buy it off the economy. You will be given a card for use at shops if you wish to. Curfew is 1830 to 0600."

"Presumably I should advise if I plan to leave the... estate? Home?" That seemed to make him nervous to contemplate. "Since you mention shops."

"It's in the middle of downtown Brussels, so if you're so inclined, there is a great deal you could do. Letting me know where you're going is a good idea. Yes, you have a subcutaneous tracker, but I won't use it unless you go AWOL. And then freedom will become a tiny cage. I don't want to have to do it that way, but as you said. War is war; post war politics is also war." There was a small jolt of turbulence, and he went carefully still to ride out the pain.

When he opened his eyes, Wufei was now looking at him, brows narrowed in a frown. "Obviously I did more damage than I was hoping to do."

He threw the other pilot a mirthless smile. "Hopefully it was enough to give you a small modicum of satisfaction. Most of it will heal with rest."

For a while, there was nothing but silence; they both sat quietly, Wufei staring forward as if in thought until Treize finally decided to rest his remaining eye. When he spoke again, Treize was unsure as to exactly how much time had passed. "I don't think I am, actually. Satisfied, that is to say. I would have preferred a fair fight instead of the way things went."

He wasn't gloating. He hadn't expected Wufei to be the gloating type, but there was expectation and there was reality, and he kept falling into the gap between the two when he least expected it. "We would have fought until our suits lost power." Treize looked at the pilot, studying his serious expression.

Wufei hummed in acknowledgment. "Quite possibly. Probably, even. And then we both might have died, I suppose, at the hands of any given member of one of the factions. At least if that had happened, it wouldn't have felt so empty and so wrong."

He was torn between a feeling of sympathy for the pilot he had used as an unwitting tool of suicide and frustration. There was no answer he could give that would make anything... would make the situation anything other than it was. Tense and strained and wrong, yes. "Are you sure?"

"I've had plenty of time to think about it. It's been two months alone in a room with my fellow pilot, who does not cope well with being detained, I can assure you." That almost sounded amused. "I think if you had accomplished what you set out to do, I wouldn't... I would..." A huff of breath, frustration. "Yes. I'm certain."

If nothing else, he was going to have an interesting conversational partner to argue with while he worked out what could be done with Wufei. "How are you feeling about it now?"

That seemed to require a moment to think, or perhaps just a moment to put his thoughts together in the way he wanted to speak them. "I think," Wufei finally spoke, voice low and thoughtful, "that I'm glad that this war is over and done for now. I wasn't well-suited to war at the beginning of things. And now I'm tired."

"We can both agree on that." He didn't have to think about his answer, and then pulled more, like he would have for one of his officers. "What are you well suited for?"

Wufei gave it serious consideration, so that was interesting. "I don't know anymore." Except obviously he did have some idea. Perhaps now wasn't the time to push at what was clearly a sore spot.

He had all the time in the world to push, and the plane felt as if it were starting a descent, while banking slightly. "You have time."

That was something they both had, in fact. The whole world, even if it wasn't the world he had envisioned. 

This time when he closed his eye, he didn't open it again until they had landed.

* * *

This, Wufei thought, was not a house.

This was a monstrosity.

It wasn't unpleasant in architecture or aesthetic; indeed, it was quite beautiful. The floors were white marble, and all of the fireplaces. Everything was white with intricately scrolled black iron, gold leaf decorating the ceiling medallions, trompe l'oeil walls, mosaics painted on some of the ceilings, stained glass in the skylights overhead and in a number of the windows. Wufei was fairly certain that he had seen some of the artwork in a book detailing art history, rare, valuable, possibly lost. That was all well and good, he supposed.

The fact that it was easily ten times the size of any house he had ever personally been to that wasn't a museum was what made it a monstrosity.

Apparently for one man, all by himself, and sandwiched in an ordinary row on an ordinary street in the Belgian capitol. He seemed at ease in the space, managing the stairs with crutches in a familiar way that was also probably a terrible idea. This was the kitchen, dining room, his main office, office for holding meetings in, a library, guest rooms, up until near the top floor where Wufei realized three things: the guards had disappeared, he was completely alone with the man, and he had not been joking when he'd said Wufei had his own quarters. Half a floor of the massive building, tucked behind a single door that Treize opened for him.

"If you'll hold still, I'll get the cuffs off."

That wasn't unreasonable. At least not as unreasonable as the damned _house_ , which was appalling, and he had no idea what to say about it, so he did as he was asked.

It was a relief to feel them come off of him, and he couldn't stop the sigh or the way he closed his eyes. He'd be willing to bet money that there were at least two baths in this suite, at a guess, and his plan was to shower for approximately forever and then crawl into bed for longer than that. There was something about being held prisoner that made him feel filthy. "Thank you."

"It's late. We'll talk after breakfast." He juggled crutches and discarded handcuffs and the keys for a moment before giving up and rather imperiously dropping it to the floor.

Reluctantly, Wufei looked at them. "Shall I put them away somewhere for you?" All things considered, it was the polite thing to do. Weird as that seemed.

Treize gave a dry laugh, turning away toward the other door on this particular floor. So a suite next door, and he had no doubt it was bigger and more grand, if that were possible. "I want to throw them down the stairs, but I'd break some heirloom and feel terrible for having done it. They're yours. I'm... done."

Well. Blinking tiredly, he watched the man crutch away from him, the door clicking shut behind him, then picked up the cuffs and the key (something weird and magnetic, and he did wonder about that) and took them with him into his own suite.

It turned out to have a sitting room, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and something that probably served as... he wasn't sure. Perhaps the suite had been meant for children long ago, and there was a strange little window that allowed him to peer down into what appeared to be a ballroom.

He had questions. He had so many questions.

Mostly what he had was sheer exhaustion, though, and so he ignored all of the smaller doors for now and took himself to one of the bathrooms.

The one nearest the room that looked down into the ballroom had an old fashioned tub with claw feet, which further made him consider the likelihood that children might have once lived in this particular suite. There was a shower in the other room, however, and Wufei had managed to strip off everything he wore, leaving it in a trail behind him, before he even turned on the water.

It was frigid, and he shuddered underneath it, but so had the water been in the tiny excuse for a shower that they were only allowed to use every other day. It was probably for the best that it was cold, anyway, or he might well have fallen asleep there. Everything he needed was already there, neatly wrapped up and on offer, and by the time the water finally got warm, he'd scrubbed every inch of himself thrice and his hair twice. Possibly he had made ridiculous sex sounds while he did it, because it was nigh on orgasmic to be clean again. To be a real person.

Warm water and clean skin that smelled of soap and perhaps a hint of ginger. There was skin lotion there with the soaps and shampoos, and a safety razor for his face, which was an unexpected relief. The stark white of the bathroom was such a contrast to the cell, and it was oddly dazzling.

He could hear water running through the pipes on the other side of the wall, and realized to some degree, for ease of wires and water and air, the two spaces mirrored each other.

Hopefully water was all anyone would hear, because he certainly hadn't considered that when he'd moaned. Everything just felt so much better, and the towels were ridiculous, thick and huge, wrapping twice around his waist.

By the time he stumbled into the bedroom, he didn't bother looking for anything to wear. He just tugged down the duvet and quilt and sheets, dropped the towel, crawled into it, and closed his eyes.

When he awoke, he still felt exhausted, and now he was thirsty and exhausted, and felt as if he'd been smeared across the sheets. It had been so much better sleeping there than the tiny prison cot, listening to Duo snore and talk to himself in his sleep. The sheets were soft against his skin. Obviously he'd been more exhausted than he had thought.

He had no idea what time it was; light was spilling in through one of the windows, golden and soft, and he thought it would be fair to say that it was probably mid-afternoon.

He'd definitely missed breakfast at 0600, then.

The good side of it was that he certainly had not violated curfew, though finding food was starting to become a more pressing interest the more he started to contemplate getting out of bed. Clothes were next; if toiletries had been laid out for him, then surely clothes had been picked out for him as well.

Beside the door was an armoire, and he did find clothing in there, a variety, all in the correct sizes. He wasn't going to ask how, because there were some things he didn't need to contemplate. The only thing he was going to consider was whether he should ask for that card for shopping now, because it was something like overkill. Wufei wasn't sure that he had ever seen anything like it before, and none of it was what he'd call his style. It was very fashionable, and Wufei sighed, turning to the chest of drawers and beginning to delve through it. Everything there also seemed to be expensive and nice, but at least all of the t-shirts and pajama bottoms and gym wear and socks were soft and felt good against his skin, so he decided to go with that since he was very likely to come back and crawl into bed once he'd managed to find food.

Outside of the suite, the building was surprisingly quiet. There was a background hum of noise, low murmurs of voice off in the distance as he made his way down the stairwell. An ancient and overly decorative clock told him it was two in the afternoon. He descended past the ballroom on the third floor, and then down to the second floor, where there were people and the muted bustle of paperwork, typing. Opposite the office for others was the library, passingly pointed out to him the night before.

Right. Nothing about this was awkward. If he had realized, he probably would have put on something more than pajamas.

Maybe.

Then again, right at the moment, did he care? He was still exhausted and he was hungry, and fuck anyone who had opinions on him wandering around fully clothed.

He continued down to the first floor, and if he had been unhappy with the situation as he passed what seemed to be a veritable typing pool on the second floor, he was startled and shocked to find the foyer bustling with people, and the doors to all of the rooms he'd had pointed to him the night before open and milling with people. Some had data pads, some with briefcases, all of them were clearly business people meeting and coordinating, mostly entirely in what sounded like French with Dutch thrown in between a cluster of officers congregating and drinking coffee by the french doors coming in. There was no dearth of uniforms as well, Alliance and OZ, and no way to go back up the staircase unseen.

A man who looked rather like a butler approached him and said something smooth and lilting that made no sense to him, French, perhaps, because it wasn't Universal. Then he gestured that Wufei follow him.

What. The. Fuck.

Everything was confusing because the place had been empty the night before. He had expected that he might see a servant or two, maybe even an attache. He had not expected two fucking floors to be full of humans eyeing him as though he'd come in whoring off of the streets because he put on pajamas and went searching for the kitchen.

He followed the man, hoping that he was staff and had deduced the problem correctly and was showing Wufei to the kitchens. He stepped through a doorway, past an empty desk, and he knew it was too late already because he could hear General Khushrenada's voice rising and falling and then stopping, could see the man standing up from behind a desk, reaching for his crutches.

He switched from whatever he'd been speaking before to Universal. "Ambassador Aravena, I'm sorry for the interruption, this is one of the Gundam Pilots, Chang Wufei. Will you excuse us for a moment, Ambassador?"

The man seemed amused, his eyes roving over Wufei so that he felt just a bit like a slimy creature had followed that gaze. "Of course, General," he offered, and Wufei did not like the way he sounded, judgmental and fully implying... things.

He didn't leave, but Treize moved past him, using the crutches, and gesturing with his chin for Wufei to follow, back out into the hallway, and then, oh, there was a door beneath the stairwell, and that was the way to the kitchens. It was quieter, and empty, and a relief that Treize had understood without having to ask. "There's cold cuts in the fridge, and bread in the breadbox. There's also coffee and light snacks for the attending diplomats if you wish to continue slinking around looking like a Filme Whore."

Wufei's mouth dropped open. "There was no one here last night! I thought this was a _house_ , albeit one of gargantuan proportion. If I had realized that you'd taken up diplomatic business on two of the floors, I assure you I would have appropriately clothed myself!" In the weirdly expensive and not entirely comfortable clothing in the armoire. "Also, I have never been a whore, thank you very much."

"What, no, I." Treize leaned his good side against the countertop, looking angry and exhausted, jaw tight for a moment. "If I have to explain what Filme is, it takes all the... God dammit. Pretty men and women posing in very little clothing in the hopes of attracting rich partners to fund their lifestyles. Fuck. Just get a sandwich, and go back upstairs. And please put clothes on if you're coming back downstairs again. The fourth and fifth floors are the private quarters."

He was fairly certain that he was blushing at that point because oh, dear god, he was definitely going to find it difficult to face any of those people again. Perhaps he could just make sandwiches and keep them in his suite and never have to leave it again. "Yes. Thank you." It was stiffly spoken, and he couldn't look the man in the eye. Well. The only eye he had, in any case, and that was his fault.

He watched the man shift his crutches but he didn't move yet. The way he'd been tensed up, he'd expected the man to storm off, leave immediately. Wufei moved to open the fridge, a massive thing that was probably used for catering, and heard him sigh. "My apologies. I should have warned you. I didn't have a clear head last night."

"Yes. Well. Ah. Accepted." Definitely hiding sandwiches, at least for today. Tomorrow he would force himself to come down appropriately dressed and... something. He wouldn't let the day force him to keep himself sequestered. "I will be appropriately dressed the next time I come down." He rummaged through the refrigerator as he spoke.

"Thank you." He heard the crutches shift, hitting gently against the floor . "I'm only sensitive to the perception because I have a poor reputation in that arena."

So Wufei wasn't the one people were judging, and that was at least good to know. Probably a bit late for his own reputation, unfortunately, but did it matter when one had become a prisoner of war? He wasn't sure that it did. "Of course. I will do my best not to give anyone that impression, then."

"Thank you." And then Treize did leave the kitchen, heading back up the narrow hallway. Back to the Ambassador to continue discussing whatever Wufei had interrupted.

Quietly, Wufei made a couple of sandwiches, and put things back in the refrigerator, then considered again and searched it for any other interesting tidbits. There were pickles, so he added that to the plate and managed to rummage through cabinets until he found a number of other things that seemed as if they would be tasty. There were a remarkable number of things in there, although he didn't imagine that Treize fed everyone who was here.

With a frown, he glanced around. Surely there must be a second staircase meant for servants, if nothing else. It would be nice if he didn't have to wander back through all of them.

He poked around in the kitchen space, and past the pantry he found a door that opened to reveal some kind of elevator. That... that was probably a solution. It was a tiny elevator inside, but it was lit and seemed to be functional.

What the hell. If he got stuck, someone would eventually notice him missing and figure it out. Probably.

Gathering his things on a tray, he slipped into the elevator and eyed the control panel, which didn't seem too difficult. He didn't read whatever the language was, but there were numbers by each so it wasn't difficult to choose the one labeled with a four. It started with a loud clunk and creaked viciously, but no worse than some of the mobile suits Wufei had piloted in his day.

It wasn't so bad that he felt inspired to climb three flights of stairs with crutches to avoid it. It was a tight space, and the doors opened slowly, but let him off into the hallway once he pushed lightly against a closed white door that blended into the walls from the outside. Now that he knew that existed, he could probably avoid the entire lot downstairs on any given day. He took his tray and made his way back to his suite and the room with the table where he curled into a chair and rather enjoyed his afternoon. Wufei was more accustomed to rations, and everything was fresh. The lettuce was crisp and the tomatoes tasted so good that he might have moaned over them a bit. He didn't even have to worry that someone might hear him since he was at least alone on the fourth floor.

Now he knew when he did venture downstairs in the daytime that he needed to be fully dressed. It would be entirely possible to stay locked up in his rooms all by himself. The only thing he really needed was a couple of books, and he could probably scrounge those up tomorrow. For now, he was quite a bit more interested in being comfortable and eating properly for at least a week before he tried to figure out what came next. It would take some doing in order to shift from a mindset that meant that both he and Duo (and presumably the other Gundam pilots) were expecting execution, not this strange sort of babysitting situation.

And he was going to take it.

* * *

His alarm went off at 0515, and he didn't know why he was getting up.

He knew, of course -- because he couldn't not. But he felt adrift, and ZERO had shown him a world that he wasn't living in anymore, one step sideways of what seemed like perfection, and he could not find the pressure point to press in the people around him to get everything back on track. 

He got up, showered, cleaned around the fixator on the side of his leg, dressed it, cleaned his eye and cheek, applied the topicals, took a handful of antibiotics and painkillers, and then hobbled back to the bedroom to dress for the day. His tailor, the ingenious bastard, had cut precise flaps which secured closed around it with Velcro, allowing him to dress around the damn thing. 

There was a conference call with Dorothy and a few of the other Romefeller survivors at 0800, and it would give him time to read and for the meds to kick in. Some days it surprised him that his stepfather was still above ground and breathing, but life simply wasn't fair.

By 0900, he was wondering if it would be noon before Wufei came downstairs again. Surely he understood the situation, and that staying in his suite wouldn't help things. He was bright, Treize wouldn't have to _explain it_ , would he?

He pushed it to the back of his mind, flagged a frightened looking staff member down for a cup of coffee, and returned his focus to the delegation from the Maghreb who were willing to recommit and sign the revised status of forces agreement that would allow them to keep three key bases, two airfields, airspace, etc., on the obvious and laughable provision that locals would be hired to staff and support the facilities, which had been the way of the world during the old days. Of course, of course, but in the wake of war after war, returning to the mundane pleasantries was a relief.

His head hurt fiercely.

When it got bad enough, he pulled open his desk drawer and downed two of the tablets there with the last of his coffee and scowled at the clock. If he didn't understand, he wasn't as bright as Treize had thought, and it was sneaking on towards ten.

He was going to have to lever himself up and go upstairs.

Fuck.

Just thinking about going up the stairs made his jaw clench; thinking about going in the service elevator was only marginally worse to a degree that would keep him from trying it again. He would take the chance for a break, duck into the washroom, and then when he was feeling more composed he would mount the stairs. He didn't have a formal meeting to deal with until lunch, though there were the discussions of opportunity in the hallway, and that meant taking a deep breath and putting on a relaxed expression before he crutched his way into the hallway, knowing he'd be accosted.

He was.

There were discussions about mobile suit part acquisition, about troop movements, about new training programs, and by the time he made it to the washroom, he was quite literally shaking from having been cornered one time too often. He ended up sitting on the closed toilet seat long enough to try and get a grip on it before he walked out again. As much as he hated the lift, he wasn't sure if he could manage the stairs.

It was tempting to cancel his lunch meeting with the Japanese deputy economic minister, but the man would then head to Sanc and they needed to have reached an agreement before things continued to escalate.

The challenge was that a great number of fine officers hadn't survived, and the people he was spreading the workload through were already as pressed by it as he was. It was a relief that Noin was overseeing the implementation of the reconfigurations, that adrift she'd come back to OZ.

He washed his hands and stared into the mirror for a moment, adjusting the artfully arranged black cloth that was covering his bandages for the moment. He just had to make it through a few more meetings and talk to Wufei about creating the Optics that he was neither being kept chained up in a birdcage nor was he chained to the General's bed.

Once he pulled himself together, he took a deep breath before opening the door and beginning to make his way to the stairs. It was difficult and painful to make his way to the steps and he wasn't looking forward to trying to make his way up them.

"I don't understand why you insist on using the stairs when there's a lift in the kitchen."

Oh.

Thank god, he wouldn't have to go up them after all.

Wufei stood there, hair pulled back, and he was at least wearing reasonable clothing -- trousers and a button down shirt that wasn't tucked in, the sleeves rolled up his elbows.

"I'd wondered if you were going to deign us with your presence today." He recovered quickly, grinning and knowing that being in another conversation would save him from being deluged on his way back to the office.

Wufei yawned and covered it with the back of his hand. "You spend weeks and weeks in a small cell only being allowed to shower every other day and see if you don't spend a few days enjoying showers and a real bed."

He'd done no such thing, and quirked an eyebrow at Wufei in answer. "All the more reason to come out and rejoin the world. I'm having lunch with a Japanese deputy minister across the street today -- join us."

That expression was cool, thoughtful. "You realize I will never make your 0600 breakfast deadline, yes? Just to be up front."

"It's starting to set in, yes," he agreed, shifting on the crutches and indicating they should head into the office with a tilt of his head.

It was enough to get Wufei moving and so he followed after Treize, hands folded at the small of his back. The sheer glory of all of the side eye and everyone refusing to ask him any questions made it well worth it, in his opinion, and by the time they reached his office, everyone nearby had miraculously cleared out of the way.

Wufei shut the door, and Treize made it to the desk before he gave up, sitting down and leaning the crutches against the side of the desk. Fuck, fuck everything hurt and he just needed a moment more. "Thank you for coming down. I could see some of the staff wondering if I had you tied to my bed."

Both of Wufei's brows rose. "Would you like to?" Then he promptly flushed. "Ah. That was uncalled for, I apologize."

He leaned back in the desk chair, hand idling at the edge of his empty coffee cup, which he had vainly hoped would magically refill itself. "Mm. I'll forget you said it."

"Thank god." And that was that, because he relaxed and settled into the chair across from him. "So. Is there anything I should know before we lunch with the Japanese deputy minister with whom you have the appointment?"

"It's to let a contract between Japan and the new ESUN government to purchase repair parts for the mech fleet that has been salvaged. The deputy minister, Tenya Iida, is very... efficient, proper. He'll be accompanied by the head of mission from the embassy, and they are both traveling on to continue work in Sanc."

"Right. So don't be offensive and try not to draw attention to who I am, I'm guessing. What's the language everyone is speaking? It sounds sort of... French and Dutch? I don't speak them, but I expect I need to do so." Wufei frowned. "I speak Cantonese, Mandarin, English, and Universal."

"English is an excellent option. The head of mission, Yaoyorozu Momo defaults to Universal, but from correspondence with the Deputy Minister, he may default to English. He might speak Mandarin, it wouldn't surprise me." But it wouldn't leave Wufei at a loss, and he was heartened by the tone of the conversation. "In Brussels, you will hear a great deal of French. It would be worth it for you to pick up enough to manage."

Wufei nodded. "Presumably there might be language primers in the library?" He sounded uncertain, and no wonder. There were a number of people who were working in the library. "Is your home always like this?"

"The correct question is _is your life always like this_ , and the answer is _most of the time_. I've attempted to set limits, but between 0800 and 1700 during the work week, it is currently functioning as the headquarters of OZ. The buildings to the left and right of this one are full of the rest of the headquarter staff offices, and their hours are whatever they like to keep." He gave a vague gesture. "Intel and comms to the right, logistics and planners fighting among themselves to the left."

"And herein lives the wizard," Wufei muttered. "I have another question. Whether or not you'll answer it is entirely separate."

"By all means." If nothing else, Wufei was keeping him on his toes.

Clearing his throat, he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, watching him closely. "What did your doctor recommend about returning to work with those injuries?"

He was silent in response, mouth tight while he turned over a few options, but the silence itself was damning, and he knew it. "I wasn't cleared to return to work."

Ah, that expression was judging him. "Did you leave AMA or are you just flagrantly ignoring instructions?"

"I was discharged Against Medical Advice." He pressed his hand flat against the desk, considering Wufei's amusingly judgmental expression. "I see what you're angling at, but I can't stop until after the elections are held."

The younger man raised both of his hands. "Obviously I have no control over anything you are likely to do or not do." Yes, but he was saying things without saying it. "Tell me you at least have a physician on staff."

"I have a personal physician who is satisfied that I'm probably not going to lose my leg. He comes by every couple of days after everyone else has gone home." Of course it was optics again. He might have fucking pins sticking out of his leg and be tied to crutches, but he was fine, perfectly healthy except for the list of other obvious things and it was a shambles.

"Hm." Perhaps he had been a general for far too long, because everyone was so cowed that they generally didn't question his decisions. Or if they did, then they'd known him since he was in short pants. "If you say so."

It was frustrating to be questioned, but an odd relief at the same time. He wasn't sure what to do with that feeling. "Dr. Watson is an asshole. I think you'll find him straightforward enough even for you." He checked the time on the clock behind Wufei's head. "Do you have any lingering injuries which need tending?"

Wufei leaned back in the chair. "No. Nothing that won't be fixed by a few days of relaxation, which you could obviously use. Do you find it strange that we can talk this easily following being at war for so long?"

He felt the edge of his mouth play up into an involuntary smile. "War strips a soul bare. And you've used ZERO."

That head tipped to the side. "It didn't affect me in quite the same way it affected some of the others. Everything was quite clear. I'm not entirely sure why." He paused. "But then, at the time, my colony had been gone for only a short time. That undoubtedly had some effect."

"What did you see?" He had to know, had to ask even if Wufei wouldn't tell him. Was it just him who felt sideways, or was it all of them?

The sharpness intake of his breath was telling, and for a moment, Treize thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally did, it was a surprise. "I saw you."

He hadn't expected it, and it surprised him, made his pulse race a little in his ears. "Is that why you pulled the blow?"

"I think so, yes. It showed me you and it showed me Marquise. It was perfectly clear. I didn't like it. It felt wrong and a little like cheating." Wufei frowned.

"You went against its path." Knocked them sideways, and there they were. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table. "I saw you kill me. I saw the war end in peace, I saw Mars being terraformed and you an old man on Mars building Gundams, training police. And now everything feels wrong, and I can't..." He glanced up at the ceiling and shook his head. "I feel it sometimes, and I don't know if it's ZERO or the damned concussion."

Wufei shrugged. "I don't do well with being told what to do. Ever. My mother said I was the most contrary child anyone could ever have hoped to have. That continues to be true. I saw you. And I saw him destroying that island on Earth. Honestly, given the choice, I thought he was a much bigger threat than you. Killing you wasn't worth it if he couldn't be stopped."

And somehow Wufei had changed their timeline. He had made a contrary decision, possibly out of spite, and sent all of Treize's well oiled plans spiraling out of control. "You could have done both, but none of it matters anymore. We're in the timeline we're in, and I don't know where it's going." Treize looked up at the painting on the ceiling, and nodded to himself. "I'm going to cancel my meetings this afternoon."

"Sensible, I think. You could probably use a nap. The body doesn't cope well if you exhaust it while healing, you know. Regardless of elections or anything else." He even looked pleased with himself.

He laughed, couldn't help himself, because there was a bitter, dark irony in being told to take care of himself by the same person who had caused the injuries. "You're unbelievable."

"The devil you know, I expect." Wufei paused. "After all, if you manage to kill yourself, then where will I be? I've no liking for being in the hands of some of the officers who held us before, and it won't help if you run yourself ragged. You may have noticed that I was silent for a bit during the war. Defeat at your hands was difficult to reconcile. I took the time to work that out so that when I came back, I could do what needed doing more quickly, with better attention to detail. It made up for the time when I was unable to... work, I suppose. For lack of a better word."

Defeat at his hands was difficult to reconcile. He lifted an eyebrow at Wufei. "And what did you decide once you had reconciled it?" His interest in Treize's continued survival was understandable; Treize had no interest in turning his own day to day life into anymore of a hellscape than it already was, and he had no taste for torture and brutality.

"That to go forward, I'd have to trust that justice as a concept would be done. _We have bent the blades of our hoes against the stalks of them._ If I walked away and didn't continue to fight, the only solution was to give up and walk away. _Let us go home, and sit in the sitting room_ was not a workable solution. I couldn't allow a single defeat to deny everything for which I was fighting, in the end." Wufei tilted his head to the side. "And killing you didn't feel like justice. It felt more like revenge."

Treize turned that over in his head for a moment, grasping for the idea of what Wufei had said, and coming up with something sideways of what Wufei perhaps would have liked to convey. "Justice Denied in Massachusetts. I wouldn't have expected you to have learned poetry along with your English."

One shoulder shrugged. "English has a lot of twists and turns. What better way to learn the more lyrical portions of it?"

"I wouldn't have thought of it that way." But both of Wufei's native languages were tonal, and it made sense if he looked at it that way. "You would've enjoyed my brother's company more than mine. The poetry collection you'll find in the library was his."

"Oh? In which languages? I suppose I'll need French, eventually." Ah, French poetry. Did they have any in the library?

"A great deal of English poetry, and I suppose there's French poetry. I recognized the Millay because of years of him quoting it." It had always been an excellent way to start an argument, by pointing out that historically both men had been guilty just to get a _that's not the point_ argument thrown back at him.

"Mmm." He glanced at the closed door. "Will there come a time when these people have offices of their own as opposed to working here in your home?"

"Only if I relocate my office elsewhere. This is my staff, and the people we need to work with." He considered Wufei's expression, and added, "I'll have a couple of the side rooms opened on the second floor and get them out of the library."

"No, it's fine. It just feels oddly like living in a hotel or a conference center. I'm trying to understand, I suppose. Since they do go home eventually, I'll choose what I need afterwards and take them upstairs if that's acceptable."

"That's acceptable. I suppose it is like living in a conference center, but it makes life a bit easier for me. I've probably been doing this too long." He glanced at the time again. "It's about time to start walking, if you'll join me. The deputy minister tends to run early."

With an incline of his head, Wufei rose and watched as Treize got his crutches into place. He didn't ask for help because that was the last thing that he wanted, and ah, yes. There was that face again. "You know," he began, "you said you were meeting for lunch across the street. Is that literally across or across and down?" He was eyeing Treize's leg with no small amount of jaundice.

"Across and down." He lifted an eyebrow at him as he started to crutch forward. Having taken the rest helped, and lunch would be a long sit down affair, and he'd be able to get back. "Not more than half a mile."

The fact that he was starting to notice every little disapproving look was beginning to annoy him. "Surely you have some better way of getting around. The jarring can't help things."

"No, and bedrest leads to an unacceptable loss of muscle function," he said, getting closer to the door and nudging it open. He was grateful that it swung out. That door had given him no small amount of glee over the years when he'd taken out someone lingering too close to it in the hopes of eavesdropping. "I once broke my back hitting atmosphere wrong and was assuredly just as insufferable."

"Hmm. Yes, there is that. I suppose I'm fortunate not to have had any more problems than I have done." Wufei shrugged and followed him out of the office, walking towards the front door. They paused there, Wufei holding his crutches while he struggled to pull on his coat, and offered one to him that fit quite well. He thanked him politely before opening the door wide for Treize to more easily pass.

There was a short stairwell down to street level, and Treize navigated it with care, breathing slowly until he got down to the sidewalk. He could make it; it was an interesting fusion ramen restaurant recommended by the head of delegation, and that would be a relaxing change. "Dr. Watson would be fine with seeing you if there is anything you need taken care of." It wasn't as if Wufei had been transferred to him with a medical record. For all he knew, there was something vitally wrong with him or there was a chronic illness to be addressed.

"Of course. I'll be sure to consult him when he comes to check on you, although you might find it difficult to get any of my medical records. Let's hope I remember everything, hm?"

"The highlights, at least. He's very good at maintaining confidence." They set off on the gravel strewn occasionally icy street with Treize measuring every step with care so he didn't end up flat on his back. "Bit of a dark horse."

"That's an interesting thing to say. Why do you call him that?" Wufei was perfectly polite and seemed to be under no particular duress. Perhaps this would work out better than he had feared.

If he was lucky, it would be bearable. "You'll understand when you meet him. Noin told me he once procured an abortion for her. Romefeller was quite against having them provided for through official channels."

The only response was a thoughtful noise as they looked both ways before crossing the street. "I can't imagine that it was any of their business."

"Romefeller believed everything was their business." He gave Wufei a sideways look, and caught himself as a crutch started to slip on the cobbles. "Sex obsessed puritans."

He almost missed the funny sideways look on Wufei's face because of it. "Well. Some people just are, I suppose. That wasn't..." He seemed to pause, gathering his thoughts. "That wasn't the case. In my clan."

"No?" It was as much as he could say without guiding the conversation one way or another. He wanted to draw the pilot out eventually.

"We married young, some of us. Clan tradition. And so we were taught about the importance of not getting pregnant too young. It was dangerous, more dangerous there than here, I suppose. I don't really know, as it wasn't relevant." Once Treize was safely crutching his way again, Wufei tucked his hands behind his back. "But we were taught early and it was emphasized that affection was important if you wanted to share something so intimate."

"Your people sounded responsible and wise. Mine..." He would have shaken his head if it wouldn't have made moving forward more of a challenge. Everything was starting to ache just enough to keep him focused. "Nothing so pleasant. Power, money and influence."

"Very different cultures, I should think. We were more traditional for the most part. Argued too much that straying from the old ways would end badly. And it did," Wufei pointed out. "At least for us."

"The old ways of Romefeller skipped a few hundred years and reached back to the pre colony eighteen hundreds. The more straying we do, the better." He turned a corner, and now it was just one block away. A long block, but he was certain he'd make it. "What did your people stray from that you think they shouldn't have?"

Wufei frowned. "This is not," he pointed out, "what I would call across the street. And we took up your old ways and left behind our own. Traditions shouldn't be adhered to without consideration, but they are important. Leaving one's own history behind makes it difficult to learn from it."

"What horrible habit of ours did your people take up that was so ruinous?" He didn't argue the point of across the street or not, because he could see the sign from there, whether his arms were screaming at him or not.

"They took up with the Alliance and Romefeller and left behind our own culture. My grandfather said that it was terrible to see centuries and centuries erased before his eyes. Just... things were different. It's not a dislike for change, it's the erasure of who we were and are as we came to be something new." Wufei paused to allow Treize to resettle his hold on his crutches.

He was mindful, if nothing else. Treize took a moment to shake out his hands and forearms, balanced carefully on one leg, while around them the city bustled with life. "I wouldn't be surprised if we don't see a re-embracing of smaller national units, fragmentation."

"Do you think we can bring back the things that were lost?" He was frowning, mostly at Treize's crutches. "I don't know."

"I don't know, either." He shifted his weight, and started to move again, because they were almost there. "We'll hopefully live to find out."

"All we can do is die trying. Or not die, in your case." And if that sounded at least a little amused, well. That was all right.

"You would think I'd have a better track record for dying." He threw that out lightly, and just as they neared the door they saw the full group and entourage for the other half of the meeting. Perfect timing.

"Your Excellency." The Japanese Deputy Economic Minister's English was, unsurprisingly, excellent. He bowed, stiff and formal. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

"Thank you for extending the invitation, Minister Tenya." He was unable to bow, but he deeply inclined his head, trying his best while still staying upright. "I've brought my Aide-de-Camp with me, Chang Wufei. I hope this isn't an imposition."

Wufei bowed, appropriately and easily. "Minister Tenya. A pleasure to meet you."

"Indeed. If I may, I would like to introduce Momo Yaoyorozu, head of the delegation here in Brussels."

"A pleasure to meet you," the woman offered, bowing as well. Her dark hair spilled over one shoulder, carefully arranged, and her dress declared that she was strictly business.

It was a shame, she was gorgeous. She'd been gorgeous every time he'd seen her, but he knew better than to comment on it. "Shall we proceed inside?" Always better to ask.

After that it was a jumble of formality and food, and at some point everyone broke off into what Treize could only guess was Mandarin. It was something of a relief because it meant he didn't have to hold up any particular conversational end, thank god. He was delighted to zone out, enjoying his ramen and drinking his tea, left leg stretched out and off to the side slightly so he wasn't feeling the pain so acutely.

"Your Excellency," Yaoyorozu murmured after a while. "I'm so sorry, we seem to be leaving you out of the conversation.

"No, no, carry on. Wufei has had people chattering to him in French all day and turnabout is fair play," he said dismissively, sipping his tea.

"Are you sure? Only I believe we have all been to the land of the Nǚjié zú, and it is always quite fascinating to find someone else who has been there. For someone born in a colony born, your aide de camp is well traveled." She gave him a little look which was nothing more than acknowledgement that they both knew and understood precisely who Wufei was.

That was fine. He wanted Wufei well known, well accepted and planned to make no fuss about it either in promoting or denying. "He is, indeed." He pulled a smile, and leaned back in the chair. "I'm quite sure -- please, carry on. It's been a very long day and I don't mind just listening and not understanding." They had lovely voices, and the words meant nothing to him, and that was fine.

He wasn't expecting the dimpled smile she gave him. "It's just that we don't often find someone who speaks the language, at least not here. Thank you for being so kind about it."

It was easy to smile back. "It's nothing. Please." He gestured her toward Wufei and the deputy minister. Later he could ask Wufei about Nǚjié zú, where it was and what was so fascinating about it, but he didn't need to be part of that moment.

Some time later, he realized there was a hand on his arm. "You fell asleep. Everyone left. They were quite understanding about your injury."

Fuck. Fuck. He rubbed at the good side of his face, and sat more upright. "I'm tempted to pretend today didn't happen at all." And Wufei had not made a run for it.

Nothing was making sense.

"They agree with me that you should be resting. It's one thing to remain physically active, it's another to put yourself through the sort of things you're doing. Working all day, starting so early?" He clucked his tongue. "But it isn't as if I can make you take the time you obviously need. I can, however, insist that we get a car back to your home."

He felt groggy and muzzy at the same time, and his head hurt just enough that he was stubbornly going to go with it. It took him a moment to shift and pull his datapad out of a pocket to call back to the house. "Trevelyan -- send the car over to Restaurant Yukihira."

When he disconnected the call, Wufei was looking at him with something like approval. "You should rest. It's obvious that the pain is wearing on you."

"I can't say it isn't. I'll have the doctor come by tonight." He stayed seated for another moment or so, shaking off the grogginess before trying to stand up and reach for his crutches. "That will hit the rumors sooner than I want to deal with."

Ah, that sniff held all of the possible disdain one person could muster. "Let them talk. Bring them back in rein when the time comes. Which is not," he noted, "at this point in time because if you're in that much pain, you have to rest."

He could cancel Friday's meetings and stay in his quarters. Take the weekend because no one would notice. Then perhaps by Monday it would all hurt less, be a little more manageable. Simply deal with Dorothy, Relena, get an update on how Noin was doing. "Did you at least have a good conversation while I was unconscious?"

"Oh, we mocked you endlessly and decided to set up a coup." He said it with a straight face, but then his mouth curved in a barely present smile. "It's been a long time since I was able to talk to someone in my language. Thank you for the opportunity."

"I know it's been a relief to me to be able to rudely default back to French when my head hurts. There are emotions tied up in hearing and speaking your native language." He managed to get standing and to the coat rack, balancing a little better for the brief and unwelcomed rest.

"Hm, yes. Perhaps I will force you to help me learn the language, then, if it's native. I find it annoying to listen to others speak while I have no idea whether they're mocking me or not."

"I wouldn't worry about that. If you've been in diplomacy or the military long enough, you'll have been burned by that assumption early in your career. You never know when an Israeli officer you're badmouthing has learned Dutch to impress her current fuck. Everyone in the office is seasoned enough to have lived that moment and gotten it out of their system."

Wufei took a crutch as Treize struggled his coat into place. "And yet I still may need tutoring in the language."

"Delighted to help." Given everything else he was doing, helping Wufei with that would be a relaxing relief. He got his coat into place, though, and it wouldn't be far to the car he could see idling outside. "Lucrezia still tells stories to complete strangers about how I taught her bookkeeping. It used to be her party trick to embarrass me."

Wufei seemed pleased as he returned the crutch to him and then moved to push open the door for him. "Excellent. I need a crash course. Cancel everything for the next week so that I can be at least moderately useful in short order."

"I can give you until Monday and then you can work on your eavesdropping," he countered, following Wufei. It was easy to get into the warm leather interior of the waiting car, to pull the crutches in behind him and close the door. He had been so bitterly, desperately exhausted that morning that a few days of rest in a row, rather than a few hours, were extremely alluring.

"Wednesday," Wufei returned as he settled comfortably, brows knitting. "And you can do morning on Tuesday and blame it on me."

"We'll see." Better the devil he knew. He was the devil Wufei knew and it was better if he remained alive. But why?

The vehicle started moving, and he turned his head to study Wufei.

He seemed fine; his expression was blank, and he was looking at the passing scenery. It wasn't even far, just a block or two, but he seemed interested in what was happening, watching the details of the architecture. Treize wondered if he found it to be so completely foreign that it was fascinating. He knew that feeling, having been in so many strange and unusual places. Brussels felt like a balm of familiarity where he knew the streets and the shops and the feel of the place, out to the newer sections of the city where the sprawl had started to spread and new train junctions had sprung up. He knew when something was wrong, when something was happening and when everything was calm and at ease. Wufei's place for that same feeling had destroyed itself. "You won, in a way. It wasn't all in vain."

Ah. That struck, and the way his face momentarily scrunched together wasn't unattractive, just sorrowful. "Wasn't it?"

"The remaining colonies are getting their rights back. They have a seat at the table again. They won't be under military rule. The war is over." The war wasn't going to be automated any longer, and OZ and the Alliance remnants were moving to peacekeeping, though it would be slow going.

Wufei's face smoothed out and he breathed in slowly, then exhaled. "That doesn't bring back my family. The people I loved. So did we win? In any way? I don't think so."

"No, it doesn't bring them back. But you did..." Enforce was the wrong word, and he searched for a moment. "Prosecute justice for more than your colony."

"That's what she told me, you know." She? "My wife's grandmother. She told me that justice was believing in yourself, never lying to yourself, never betraying who you are. She told me..." His tongue darted out, moistened his lower lip. "She told me that doubt would only create chaos. And that I shouldn't hesitate. So when it was time, when you did what you did, I made the choice that felt right."

Broke the world.

"Stay brave enough to shape what follows." The car stopped in front of the house, and there was amusingly enough a small group of tourists taking pictures outside.

"That's all anyone can do. Does this happen often?" Wufei indicated the tourists. "I can see why it would. The house is..." Beautiful. "Utterly insanely large."

"Yes. Yes it does." He popped the door open, and struggled with the crutches and the snow for a moment, but managed to get his foot under him well enough to start toward the staircase. It had been in his family for well over six hundred years, and he had managed to spend snatches of time there over his childhood and after his academy days, in and around holidays. Nowhere near as much time as he'd spent at Victoria or New Edwards, but it was somewhere to plant the flag.

He could hear the tourists murmur, talking about him, theorizing about Wufei, curious and still taking pictures. It obviously bothered him a bit, and he turned his face away from them. Treize knew that there were already news articles stating that the Gundam pilots had been parceled out to various factions, and that it would undoubtedly be fascinating to figure out which ones went where and to whom. 

This was part of the process, and it would smooth things by letting it happen organically, blandly. Naturally, just like Wufei felt about the gossip about his injuries. Once they were inside, they were finding the staff and workers a bit thinner on the ground, a bit quieter while he hung up his coat and used the wall to quite obviously hold himself up while he texted Dr. Watson on the data pad.

"At least sit down while you do that." Dispassionate, yes, but he was starting to wonder if there was a mother hen gene that he'd somehow missed out on. "Before you fall down." _You lunatic_ , he didn't add, but Treize could sense it.

"I don't think I can get up again if I do," he said quietly, and in English. "He's on his way and will see you after." Now he just needed to rush the stairs.

Muttering behind him in Mandarin. "Come with me. Please." English, and that word seemed to cost him. "Because it will be a travesty if you fall down the steps and break your neck."

He pocketed the datapad, and adjusted his crutches to follow Wufei. He knew the pilot was leading him to the kitchen where they passed an intel officer who gave a bright hello and politely took himself out of the way, carrying a cup of coffee. "Mhmm, I hate this thing."

"Yes, because obviously it makes more sense to climb three sets of stairs on crutches with your depth perception off." Ah. Definitely wouldn't be afraid to argue with him, then, and that was actually quite charming in its way. Unusual.

Zechs had always been willing to argue with him, and it made his heart hurt to remember. "Yes, yes it does." The kitchen wasn't empty, but he ignored the sergeant who was flirting shamelessly with an aide from what he could only guess was the Egyptian delegation. His cancelled meetings, damn, well. Well.

He would have to call their head of delegation and apologize.

"No, no it does not," Wufei muttered, and pressed the button, waiting patiently. "I can tell that we will argue about this a great deal." And probably a number of other things.

He had missed having someone argue with him. The elevator came down quickly enough, and he stepped inside it after taking a deep breath, and moving to press his back against the back, clutching tightly to his crutches. "If I weren't exhausted."

"You've piloted mobile suits," Wufei noted, stepping inside and watching him curiously. "In space." He pressed the button for the fourth floor.

"And yet those situations were missing one key thing." He kept breathing, kept his focus on Wufei's delightfully incredulous and confused expression as it started to move slowly. "My stepfather."

That frown was sharp, brows knit. "Oh? That sounds... not good."

"That is a succinct explanation that I agree with." He inhaled deeply, counting the floors, counting the movement, not thinking, and when it slowed and settled on the fourth floor, he nearly reached past Wufei to push the covering door open to get out into the hallway.

Fuck he hated that elevator.

Behind him, he heard the lift and the door quietly closed and shut appropriately even as he realized that he had left his damned crutches, and the pain in his leg was undeniable. "I think," Wufei said, lifting his arm and draping it over his shoulder, eyeing the external fixator, "I can now make a good argument for why you should cancel things through Thursday."

"Goddammit," he laughed, clutching suddenly at Wufei's shoulder, and then letting off a stream of invective in French, unable not to laugh at the same time. The pain was amazing, a searing shock through nerve endings that had gone silent on adrenaline for just long enough for it to be a problem. "Christ and fuck."

"You know, I find it odd, this situation." They continued to limp and struggle their way along the hall until they made the way to his suite. Wufei reached out to open it and frowned when he found it locked. "Helping you, that is. Also, I do not have a key to my own suite. I do hope you have one for yours."

"Mm, and I have the key to yours just inside the door here. I neglected to give it to you." Because after the long flight and getting up the stairs he had been exhausted and angry and it had slipped his mind. He used his free hand to fish the key from his pocket and opened both the door and the deadbolt. "You could just push me down the stairs, but as you said, devil you know. I wonder at a world where I'm the lesser of two evils." It was a relief to be helped into his suite, and once inside he could use the furniture for a little additional support.

The light switch was easy to find, flipped on, and Wufei observed the room quietly. "What is this overwhelming need for everything to be white and gold? Because I can tell you, it's blinding early in the day."

That laugh involved less cursing than the last one, and he leaned heavily on the sideboard just inside the door, rifling the drawers quickly. "Heirlooms."

Wufei huffed. "For god's sake, sit down. You can direct me to find the keys. You need a babysitter. Perhaps it's for the best that I'm here."

"Perhaps it is." He wasn't going to argue it, because it seemed to be an improvement on wondering when the Gundam pilot who was nearly in his attic would come down and interact, if ever. Getting to a chair was harder than it sounded, and he collapsed into one near the library-style shelving because it was a relief more than a comfortable chair. "They're in that sideboard."

"Presumably recognizable on sight." He muttered it, but he was keeping one eye on Treize all the same. "Once I find them, I'll help you to your bedroom. You should be lying down."

"That's very likely." It was hard to imagine just then that he'd planned at least another three hours of meetings for himself, and that it was still daylight and not creeping close to evening. The unexpected doze and the cloudy skies had thrown him for a loop for time accounting in his head. "Lift up the log book on the right."

"Ah. Underneath the picture wire." Yes, he'd quite forgotten about that. "White tag or yellow?" He could swear he heard Wufei muttering under his breath about that, too.

"Take them both. White tag is your quarters, yellow is the gym and the rooftop deck. It's beautiful in the summer. Even I'm not mad enough to sit out there long in the winter." The muttering was almost charming.

"You're certainly mad as a hatter. Right. These are them." He laid them on the sidebar. "Let's get you to your bedroom in one piece."

"Thank you." He bit his tongue and didn't ask Wufei if he'd ever played with mercury balls, because he was sure the answer was going to be no and another deep sideways look at him that might start him laughing again. God he was tired. 

His bedroom was more subdued, dark wood furniture that was well worn, a dressing gown, old unit t-shirt and sleep shorts thrown into a chair beside the bed. The bed was somewhat mussed because there were too many pillows piled in to help him keep still and keep his leg in a position that was comfortable so he wouldn't roll over onto the fixator in his sleep more than once a night.

"How do you even manage this alone?" Still muttering, and he thought Wufei probably talked to himself when he was thinking quite hard. "Sit. Sit, and I'll fetch things you need until the doctor who allowed you this idiocy arrives."

"I've managed it just fine." He sat on the edge of the bed, familiar with his own routine, and started to loosen his necktie. "I know how to clean and dress a wound."

At that point, it earned him a quick burst of Mandarin and a _look_. "That's what my mother would tell you," he sniffed, and brushed away Treize's hands. "Ridiculous. You have no one to help you, you make yourself perform ill, you need a keeper."

"What're you, I can take off my own necktie perfectly well," he protested, leaning back on one hand. "I've taken care of my injuries for years."

"Which is clearly what has given you this bizarre masochistic fetish for suffering," Wufei informed him, making short order of the tie and beginning all of the small buttons on his uniform. "Although the Romefeller need for nineteenth century cavalry uniforms is preposterous."

He leaned his other hand back on the bed, feeling mildly, no, deeply confused at Wufei's hands pulling open his uniform jacket. "It's a surprisingly hard-wearing uniform. And you just throw the pants in with bleach."

"That is always a plus. I like my whites to remain white." He did recall the white pants Wufei had been wearing when they had dueled on his ship. "Take that off. What do you need?"

"Just those." He indicated the light running shorts and the t-shirt, as he shrugged out of his stiff coat and set it aside before he started to unbutton his collared shirt himself, before Wufei decided to start that as well.

"Right." Wufei gathered them, and politely laid them next to him before taking the jacket and moving towards the armoire with it. "Tell me when you need assistance." 

"I'm fine." That was the easy part of things. He traded his shirt and undershirt for the worn t-shirt, unfastened the velcro from around the pins and squirmed a little to get his pants and underwear down. The shorts coming back up was almost a challenge, but only because his femur ached when he bent forward just then to pull them up. "And finished, thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Wufei turned and gathered his clothing. "Now, lie down and prop it up. When is your doctor coming?"

"He'll be here shortly. And he'll probably use the elevator, which is convenient because he might bring me my crutches back," He shifted carefully, flexing his muscles and swinging that leg up so he could shove pillows beneath it appropriately. He ended up sprawled awkwardly on the bed, jamming a pillow under his shoulder out of frustration, but it was doable. And in a way, it was good to be lying down at long last. He hadn't quite anticipated how tired he was.

If he closed his eyes for just a moment...

* * *

The man needed a keeper.

Clearly someone must have been assigned to babysit him prior to this or Wufei wouldn't have had the opportunity to damage him and nearly kill him. He quite obviously would have managed it entirely on his own.

He was passed out cold quickly, head still bandaged, leg just a mess, and those shorts. Dear god, those shorts hid nothing, and he hadn't even thought to pull a blanket up over himself before unconsciousness won. The house was well heated, but not quite that well heated.

And then there was a knock on the door to the suite. "General?" The door creaked open slowly. "It's Doctor Watson, General, you sounded quite, well, messed up, and then I find your crutches in the elevator..."

"Yes, thank you, do come in. The general has passed out, I fear. He is unfortunately quite stubborn and has continued working from dawn til dusk and quite beyond, most likely. I have insisted he should spend the next week teaching me French in the hopes that he will allow himself time to rest." Wufei looked at the man. He was blond, short hair, had a bit of a military bearing to him. He gave off those sorts of vibes, anyway. "He said that he signed out against medical advice but that he was obeying your instructions. I think perhaps you should change those instructions."

"Aaaaand who are you?" He had a wary sort of look around his eyes, cagey, really British, and then he relaxed. "Oh, the Gundam pilot who did this, right. Right. Right." He leaned the crutches against the wall, using his own cane with the other hand and then coming closer to the bed. He had a medical bag in hand that ended up set on the chair. "I believe I said light duties, not to exceed six hours, and then he could sit around and do video conferencing all he wanted from bed or the sofa. Also at least half an hour a day on the exercise bike upstairs but I doubt that's happened. More concerned about this mess here..." He was busily unpacking the wound site at the side of his head, his eye.

Wufei didn't look away even though he wanted not to see what was hiding under there. That desire was proven unquestionably correct, and he shuddered at the sight. "Yes, that would be me. If he weren't a suicidal lunatic, he wouldn't have thrust himself upon my staff." And didn't that just sound deeply horribly wrong. "Fortunately for him, I managed to alter my aim sufficiently so that I didn't kill him, but I expect it was a close thing."

The doctor stopped, reached into his bag to pull on gloves, and then started to probe at the mangled mess as if it made sense to him. "It's been almost two months. He lost a spleen, which he doesn't seem to care about because he's an engineer with no better understanding of medicine other than red skin bad, blood bad, oozing bad. We've had rather amusing conversations about this. But I'd never had an electrocuted patient before. The burning was interesting." He pressed around the skin just below his eyebrow, and Treize stirred and tried to turn his head away. "What do you think, phantom of the opera mask?"

Huh.

Wufei thought he quite liked this physician, at least insofar as his sense of humor went. "He's dramatic enough to pull it off, I think. He mentioned that you would also be available to me if I should need you?" It was more a question than a statement. "If you'll advise me what he should and shouldn't be doing now that he's managed to drive himself to exhaustion, I will attempt to make him do it." It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. Read and relax, certainly, but he knew himself. He would be bored in short order.

"Clean the pins once a day and keep them wrapped. He seems to be keeping up on that. There's some crusting over here back by his jawline that he can't see, and he needs to give up shaving until it's all healed, because that's a razor gauge, you see there? So if you can get him to listen, by threat or complaint, thank you." Watson stepped back slightly, and started to unwrap the gauze around the pins. "He had a massive infection straight off from the pins, but yes it seems to still be stable. I'm assuming sexual assault is what you need seeing to?"

And if Wufei blanched, well, it was only to be expected. "How did you..." He broke off, glancing uneasily at the general lying on the bed. "Testing. For possible STI. To be sure."

"Of course. If you don't mind, we'll move to your suite and I'd like to give you a general once over so I get a feel for your health." He seemed completely bland and calm, tilting Treize's leg to get a better look at the pins from all sides. "It's not as uncommon as one would want, and not the first time I've attended the general or one of his aides for something similar over the years. I was a medic in the Specials until I was removed for medical reasons myself about five years ago." The cane, of course. Who else would OZ officers trust but one of their own?

"Right." And if that sounded a bit thready at the edges, he couldn't help it. "That wasn't something that I faced much on our side of the war." They all worked fairly separately. It was only a worry if they got captured. Some people preferred beating the hell out of a man and some preferred other things.

The doctor snorted, and probed at one pin thoughtfully with a pinky. "I'm sorry you ran into it at all. The skirmishes with rebels, well. You just blew up someone's village, and now they've downed your mech, and they pull you out and you're clean and handsome and one of those bastards who just blew up the village?" He lifted his eyebrows, and stepped back, changing his gloves before he reached for a hypodermic needle and had a rummage in his bag. "Marquise, I think, had it the worse."

Wufei didn't even know what to say. "He was... pretty?" It sounded more like a question than anything else. "We mostly fought alone. Four of us were on the lunar base simultaneously. That was the first time. But then, they tried to suffocate us there, so I expect that was at least better than dying."

"On the whole, I suppose that's one way to look at it." The man injected something into Treize's leg, and then went about re-dressing the wounds. "He was pretty, but he was damn weird, and people prey on the weird. Running around with a mask on? Absurd."

All right, yes. He quite liked Treize's doctor. "Before you go this afternoon, could I perhaps have instructions in writing? I've found that it's more difficult to argue when you have documentation. Or at least it helps your case while you argue, and I expect he's going to be the sort that argues for the sake of it."

"Of course. I'm taking six hours down to four because he's clearly been ignoring it. Has he sounded confused when he talks to you? Has he seemed emotionally... overwound?" He was brisk and efficient, and then went back up to deal with the side of Treize's face, after another change of gloves.

"I don't know him well enough to be sure but I would say most definitely overwound. As for confusion, I don't think so. He seems to be on track." Wufei watched those hands at work. "How should it heal, do you think?"

"It will heal well eventually. I'd hoped to save his eye socket and put in a prosthetic, but the muscles themselves were burnt. It was safer at that point to stitch it all closed and prevent infection. The burns are healing well, it just looks... disgusting." He was using some kind of solution to wipe at it, cleaning, and Treize stirred a little again.

That was absolutely the case, Wufei had to admit. It looked horrifying, in fact, so much so that it was actually almost fascinating. "He's lucky he yet lives." It had been a close thing. ZERO had shown him what was coming and it seemed to Wufei that there had been more than one option; some paths clear, some paths not, and the one Treize had wanted to come to pass had only continued on to more war on Mars, to fighting, to misery. This was a much better timeline and a much better choice.

Wufei hoped that he was done with war for now. Probably the rest of their combined lives, if they were fortunate.

"Oh yes. Yes he is." He patted it dry with something, and then smoothed some kind of salve over the mess before he started to bandage it up. "Vain bastard's having a very sad time with this. All right." He checked the man's pulse at his neck and then both wrists, and then both ankles, looking thoughtful. "Any idea how much he took in painkillers today?"

"No. He's usually up and at breakfast by 0600 and I'm not that much of a morning person. At a guess, more than he should have." There had been a round of sake at lunch, but Treize had slept through it. At least he didn't have to report that.

"Excellent guess. I'll swing back on my way out and make a spirited attempt to wake him up, but his pulse is steady." The man didn't seem concerned, as he tidied the discards into a waste bin, and dropped his last change of gloves in as well. "Shall we?"

"Yes, thank you. My suite is just across the way. Do you have everything you'll need? If you don't, it can wait." It had certainly waited this long.

"Oh no, always prepared for the worst," he said, picking the closed bag up and grabbing his cane. "I have to ask, how did the crutches end up by themselves in the service elevator?"

"Normally, he navigates the stairs. I told him that today wasn't the day to try it. He quite seriously dislikes the lift and exited without them before I could stop him doing it." Wufei glanced at him. "I'm going to assume he'll sleep through for a bit if you'd come with me."

"He's a grown man and if he wakes up, he's likely to go back to sleep. I've never seen him exhibit delirium; he'll be fine." The doctor started briskly back to the door, proof that a man could move aggressively with the help of a cane.

"The world has turned on its ear," Wufei muttered to himself, but he carried on through Treize's sitting room and into his own suite, feeling a bit more comfortable now that he had a key and could lock the door.

Two keys. He would have to explore the gym sometime and see what was up there. "Has it? Worse than I first suspected?" the man asked casually, keeping a comfortable distance as Wufei led the way.

"No less than anyone suspected, although it's simultaneously not how anyone expected it to do as much. I find that everything is confusing and nothing makes sense. _He_ wants me to be his aide de camp. It's an interesting notion," Wufei admitted. "But if he expects me to start the day at 0600, he's going to have to adjust his expectations."

"You know, I always hoped he'd eventually slow down. Complete smug bastard to be around when you're hung over." They stopped in the sitting room, and the man set his bag down on the table. "Morning people are very smug about the whole business, aren't they? Roll your sleeve up, please, I need to draw a few tubes of blood."

Wufei settled on the récamier and pushed his sleeve further up his arm, offering the left one as the good doctor began to ready his vials and needles. It only took a moment for rubber tubing to be wrapped around his arm, the man sliding on gloves before he began to feel for a good vein.

"He's always been good to his staff. The aide de camp is historically the only person I've ever seen publicly disagree with him and have their career survive," Dr. Watson drawled, inserting a butterfly needle carefully into his arm. "Flourish, even."

That was highly amusing. "Well, he can count on my disagreeing, that much is certain." The needle prick had been small and not at all terrible.

The man started to fit a tube into the end of it, and kept his eyes on what he was doing. "Any specific complaints you've been experiencing?"

Wufei shook his head. "No. Just... worrying. I wanted to be sure there was nothing wrong." He paused as if to gather himself. "Some anxiety."

"There's medications for that," he offered agreeably, swapping tubes so he felt only a little bit of pressure at the change. "I'll have it run tonight and when I come back tomorrow, I'll bring any treatments you might need."

"Thanks. I hope it will lessen as I become accustomed to the current situation. My..." Wufei trailed off and drew in a breath. "My colony committed mass suicide. Between that and this, everything has felt a bit overwhelming is all."

"I'm going to have to start thinking of you as a master of understatement." He was up to three tubes, and gently grasped Wufei's wrist, bending his arm a tiny fraction to get the blood flowing. "Are you looking for numbness or relaxation?"

The honest answer to that question was easy. "I don't know. I think _he_ ," Wufei inclined his head toward the door, "probably needs something worse than I do."

"No, that's the concussion. I'd rather leave him alone while that adjusts so we have an idea how he's doing compared to normal. He's always been very... calm. Back to you. What're you looking for?" He swapped one more tube with care.

He couldn't help making a face. "Relaxation, I suppose. Sleeping is difficult." Because he worried, because he thought too much about the people who were gone, because he thought about what had happened on the lunar base and what had happened while they were being held.

"I have something I can give that will help with sleep." He tilted a look at Wufei as he pressed a cotton ball against the inside of his elbow and pulled the needle out. "Something you can't overdose on without trying _very_ hard."

Wufei bent his elbow with a prompting hand. "I owe it to my people to keep living, so I expect you'll have to worry less about me and more about the idiot next door who thinks he's superhuman."

"I've had years of him bleeding or asking if something looks broken, whereas you're a new factor. How tall are you and what do you usually weigh?"

After that came a barrage of questions and answers, Wufei dutifully telling Dr. Watson everything that he needed to know. There was no point lying; the man seemed confident and was giving the appropriately judgmental eye to Khushrenada, after all. He hadn't been lying when he had said that of all his options, it was best to take the devil he knew. At least he could be reasonably certain that the good general had a sense of honor and decency.

People on his staff worried for him more than feared him, and that was a good indicator. He seemed concerned about what might have happened to Wufei, and there was no telling if he was as perceptive as the doctor was, but if he had a history personally then perhaps he suspected. Perhaps that was why he'd brought it up more than once. The roof over his head was solid, the food was excellent, and the work seemed to be interesting and permissive. 

Watson seemed to settle on a couple of potential medications Wufei could take as a 'when needed' supplement, and that he would bring a small amount of both over so Wufei could see which one he preferred the effects of.

"Thank you. I appreciate your assistance." Very much so. "And I might well call on you when I begin arguing with him, since it will probably be quite difficult to get him to do as he should."

"That's fine. I have a bit of a bustling business here in Brussels, but it's all house calls and that does make the scheduling easier. Please don't hesitate to call or text. I'll just pop next door and make sure he's not comatose. Until tomorrow." He had his bag and his cane and was moving with familiarity to let himself out of the suite.

It was a relief to be alone. He'd have to steal Treize's datapad to contact Dr. Watson, but that was fine. He was fairly certain that he could manage as much. Particularly if the man were incapacitated and needed someone to intervene. 

He locked the door behind the man and just enjoyed the intense relief of knowing he was the only person in the space and it was all his. He was secure.

That night, he slept harder than he had in a long time.

* * *

He'd overslept the next morning because some asshole had turned off his alarm clock. The world seemed to move in slow motion, and he laid in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and the sheaf of instructions that had been left on his bed, contemplating his plans until his bladder started to protest. That set him up to motion, the usual routines. Clean, change dressings, medications, stare into the mirror for a moment and feel unsettled, fail to shave because Dr. Watson had warned him off that during a groggy discussion the night before.

He called down to Trevelyan and asked him to bring up some leftovers from breakfast and leave it outside the door. He reiterated the cancellation of his appointments, and said he'd be re-scheduling the rest himself.

It was mid-morning when the knock came on the door, distracting him from the short apologies he was writing in French regarding his cancellations. He honestly didn't feel up to getting up to answer it considering the previous evening. "Come."

The door opened and Chang Wufei entered, stacks of books carefully balanced. "You look terrible," Wufei advised, moving into the suite and sitting the books on the coffee table before settling onto the cabriolet across from the fainting couch Treize had requested be moved in when he'd realize it would be easier to sit on it than any of his current furniture.

He hadn't shaved, hadn't bothered to cover the bandages, and hadn't changed clothes since the night before, so that was all in all a heartening response. What was he supposed to say in response to that? "Yes. Thank you, I'd noticed as well."

"I quite liked your Dr. Watson," Wufei advised, curling up with what looked like a grammar primer. "He told on you. You aren't following his orders."

He clenched his jaw for a moment and felt the discomfort of it before he leaned to the side table behind the fainting couch and picked up his coffee cup. "No, I wasn't. He also gave me a long dressing down on it and a new antibiotic."

"Hm, yes. We discussed it. He is prepared to come in as backup if you continue to flagrantly disobey." Was it his imagination or did he sound smug?

"It won't be necessary." His mouth compressed slightly. "One of the pins is showing signs of possible infection again, so I'll follow instructions rather than lose my leg." He was tired of the medications, but it was that or end up part cyborg.

"Good. So, you're going to teach me French. You can do that lying down, after all." Wufei seemed pleased with that. "At least we can get a fair start."

He set the datapad down against the thigh of his good leg, and leaned back for a moment, closing his eye. "The grammatical structure is very close to Universal. You might want to start looking at that while I finish some of this rescheduling."

"Hm. Yes. Very good. And we'll speak French starting Monday afternoon," Wufei decided. "At least until I decide that I will strike you if you don't speak a language that I understand."

He agreed, and complemented Wufei on his decision, in French. "Perhaps what you need to learn first is 'd'accord'."

Ah, that was quite the suspicious glance. "I like arguing with you too much to learn to agree with you first."

"You're quick. It's also useful when you're not paying attention, or just want to say something noncommittal. It's tonal in delivery." He said it a few times, from an actually agreeing tone, to one that was quite firmly a fuck you.

Wufei blinked at him thoughtfully. "So... it's the French version of Duo saying _bless your heart_ but more direct."

"Perhaps, a verbal eye roll, yes. It's been some time since I've thought of how to teach someone French. English has many words that are cognates, only they're said differently."

"Etymology is..." Wufei waggled his hand vaguely. "I speak Mandarin and Cantonese because I was raised with people who spoke the languages. Universal we studied in school, and English because I wanted to study literature when I finished with math and it has the most translated novels."

"This is a stupid question, but do Mandarin and Cantonese have... cognates?" If nothing else, Wufei was truly an interesting conversational companion, even if he was infuriating. He had relaxed into it quickly after the jab at his looks, the chaise was comfortable, and Wufei was looking well dressed and at ease, which was an improvement from how he'd seen him the night before, well dressed and worried. 

And then the datapad on his thigh gave the buzzing vibration of an incoming call. "Damn."

Damn because that was Dorothy and he wasn't in the mood.

 _"Mon cher cousin,"_ she greeted as soon as he connected. _"I see you haven't been stabbed in your sleep."_

He wished the calls weren't video, that somehow it would be audio only. "No, I have not been stabbed in my sleep. Have you?"

One hand waved idly. _"As if anyone would dare."_ Well. That was true. _"No, no, he is doing quite well, all things considered."_ All things considered? _"You remember, of course, the incident in Volgograd."_

"Yes, then ‘all things considered’." She'd received confirmation then about what he'd round about guessed, that the pilots had been assaulted while they'd been being held. He was rather proud of himself for not glancing over to Wufei. "We'll discuss that another time, but if you have more information to pass to me for follow up, I would appreciate it."

 _"Of course. So how's the recovery going?"_ After that, things went smoothly into discussion about himself and the fact that he would be cancelling a number of appointments due to the state of his health, whether he liked it or not.

He kept his tone reassuring but not apologetic. There was a great deal that his staff could do on their own without his formal blessing, and things that could be coordinated at a distance. It wasn't as if everything ground to a stop because he was sitting in his study feeling disheveled.

It was just that he hated it to his core. 

By the time the call finally ended, he was tired, and he wanted lunch and possibly a nap. Wufei was clearly in agreement because he was watching him and murmured, "You should rest."

"This isn't resting?" He was sprawled on a chaise lounge with coffee and a datapad and that felt enough like rest.

"This is you continuing to work when you should be focusing on resting," Wufei pointed out to him. "Rest is important for recovery."

He knew that he was staring blankly at Wufei, and he wasn't sure if he meant something else or if his brain had finally short circuited and thrown down the flag. "Try explaining that to me a different way."

"Stop worrying. Stop fretting. Try relaxing on occasion. You've had electrocution and a concussion and god knows what else. Your mind is part of your body and it needs to stop spinning on its wheel so that you can actually heal." Wufei looked at him pointedly. "It's like no one ever taught you how. Do you need me to show you?"

"I expect you have to." He rubbed fingers over his right eye, grimacing to himself. "Because I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not worrying. I don't..."

"Know how, obviously. I have been here not even a full three days and I can tell. Put away the datapad. You need a hobby, something simple and easy to occupy your hands and your mind, but not so much that you're doing more thinking than you must. Or perhaps to read something. When was the last time you read fiction, hm?"

He shook his head slightly, wanting to argue, wanting to deny, and yet. He had done nothing but plan, create for OZ, build OZ, work missions, plan for the Specials. "It's been a few years. I suppose if I suggest we find a firing range, you'll protest that as well."

"If it involves you standing up, yes." His expression was bland, easy. "Did..." He paused and licked his lips, upper and then lower. "Has no one ever shown you how to relax? To spend time doing nothing?"

"One of the marksmanship qualification positions is prone supported. I'm sure I could manage," he responded blithely, dodging the question quite obviously.

"After managing three flights of stairs?" Wufei pulled his feet underneath him. "If you stop, are you going to crack?" 

It was such a strange shift of topics, all of it, strange that Wufei was even feigning that much concern. "I think you know my answer to that."

"Yes, I think I do." He was being studied, and he didn't like it. "I also think that you need a keeper. Tell me, did you have one? Before, I mean."

Nothing that was coming out of his own mouth was anything he particularly wanted to hear. "Lady Une was my previous Aide-de-Camp. I don't need a keeper, I need..." Help.

"You need a keeper," Wufei advised him, voice dry. "Right. So if I organize a course that keeps you occupied teaching me or advising about something, would that be sufficient? For the time in which you need to rest?"

He pressed the heel of his hand against his good eye, tightly closed. "Yes. Fine, yes. I would rather discuss linguistics than how I'm feeling. Though I still don't understand why you find this to be sufficiently restful."

"I don't, but you seem to want me to be your aide de camp and therefore I need to speak the language in order to be remotely effective." He shrugged. "You should pick up something to do with your hands. Crochet. Cross stitch. It's bizarrely relaxing."

He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then repeated it, pushing down an immediate urge to snap. Instead he opened his eyes, fuck, eye, and very precisely set the datapad on the table, closed. "Do you know what _s’il vous plait_ means?"

"Please," Wufei responded promptly. "It would also help improve your hand eye coordination since you're having to relearn a great deal of that. My mother made me learn to do embroidery to help increase dexterity when I was having problems with it."

"You can never go wrong by adding please to the end of a statement. My hands are fine. I'm adjusting well to the change of depth perception." He wasn't adjusting well to his fucked up face, he wasn't adjusting well to having pins and a fixator sticking out of his leg at all hours, he wasn't adjusting well to everything hurting, to his head hurting, to feeling so unwell that he had done essentially nothing all morning and still felt terrible for it.

"All right. In which case, perhaps pick up something that would help you relax. Learn to paint." Wufei shrugged. "When you're well, we'll arrange something different." He paused. "S’il vous plait."

And Wufei had acted as if he were incapable of playing to a political audience. It was hard not to smile to hear that thrown in. "You're doing better than half my staff if you remember that one." He shifted, moved to stand up and grabbed for his crutches. "I'll be back. Pick a book and let's try a word for word walkthrough."

"God help me," Wufei sighed, and obediently enough did as he was told.

* * *

His French was execrable.

Naturally it would be. He'd only been studying for a handful of days, and at least half of the time was spent arguing with Khushrenada about taking care of himself.

Khushrenada was very easy to argue with. 

The last time he'd argued that easily had been Meiran, only that had included makeup sex when the growling and shouting reached a frenzy.

 _D'accord_ and _Parlez lentement, s’il vous plaît_ had kept him from completely drowning, though some of the staff switched to Universal for him almost as soon as he started trying. It felt like pity. He despised it. He was going to have to give up sleep to increase his ability with the language just so that no one pitied him for long.

The fact that he was now neatly dressed in a grey suit that seemed simultaneously Edwardian and futuristic ("Because that is what civilians _wear_ , Wufei," Treize had advised.) and which was distinctly uncomfortable after spending most of his time in tank tops and loose trousers for years was also a bit annoying.

He had received no few appreciative looks from the other staff, officers and civilians both, including a young woman named Hannah who cornered him in the kitchen and asked who he was with some mix of delight and suspicion in her eyes. It had been a bit creepy, but at least it hadn't been one of the men. That would have left him vicious and he'd probably have struck someone, which couldn't have ended well.

For most of the morning, he had reviewed Treize's calendar with him, scowled at him as he tried to figure out what could be put off and what couldn't. Then he had ruthlessly rearranged all of those and any that he appeared to have waffled over so that he wouldn't be in the office for more than four hours on any given day.

He could tell he was going to break four hours, right away, because Relena had called and Treize had asked him to close the door behind him on his way out. He was read on, but not so read on yet. It was fair -- he was sure Relena wouldn't have wanted him in the room for whatever they were discussing, either. 

There was a burst of French coming toward him, and then a hesitance that was replaced with, "What should we call you? I'm Trevelyan. I've been seeing W. Chang in the calendar change notifications."

Wufei looked up at the butler. "It's nice to meet you, Trevelyan. You may call me either Wufei or Chang, as you like." He glanced at the door behind him. "Dare I hope that you and I might be co-conspirators in getting His Excellency," and what a ridiculous title that seemed to him, "to obey doctor's orders?"

He was perhaps a few years older than Treize, and he had been the man to guide him to Treize on that first bungled breach into what he was learning hadn't been pure chaos, no, it was poorly structured chaos. "I think once the staff sections complete their decision briefs to him next week, yes. I see you've managed to reduce everything to mornings. Have you been next door to coordinate your comms keys and badge?"

"Earlier, yes." Treize had not so much breezed in as clomped in, and everyone had immediately done as he said. Wufei was beginning to understand precisely why he seemed to enjoy Wufei's argumentativeness. A quarter of the time he might not directly respond, or he might not answer the question at all, but they did manage to have many deep and interesting arguments despite it, whereas everyone in the intel and communications building didn't hesitate to do anything he'd told them to.

That was how he'd gained access to the lowest level of the internal network of OZ and a wealth of lower classification information that he knew would lead to more arguments once he started to read in his free time. "Perfect. Do you have a moment, then?" He indicated a small office space that seemed empty for the moment.

"Of course." Wufei nodded and rose, glancing back at the door and then following Trevelyan obediently enough into his office.

"I am confused and grateful that you're here," the man said by way of what Wufei guessed passed as a further hello. "And yes, we're all willing to help... suppress the appetite of the military staff for his time while he recovers from his injuries."

That was both of them, then. He might as well confess and expect the man to either find him terrifying or worth hitting. "They divvied up Gundam pilots for security purposes. It has swiftly become obvious that what _he_ needs is a keeper, as he is clearly incapable of caring for himself appropriately."

The man's butler didn't protest. Didn't seem to blink in reaction, as he pulled up his computer. "That is perhaps true: Lady Une was an immeasurable help, though I believe they had a falling out over his... obvious attempted suicide."

Wufei licked his lips and glanced out the window. "There were two possibilities. That he would die and that he... wouldn't. I had the choice." It was his fault they had lost. ZERO had shown him two different possibilities and he hadn't truly known what his choice would mean until he had made it. He wasn't entirely sure he knew even now. "I had hoped the damage wouldn't be as severe." And it was true, he had.

There was no way to hop into a ZERO system and check, was there? And if Treize knew of or had access to one, he was in no shape to do so; it didn't warrant mentioning. The butler gave a noncommittal shrug, with a cleaner outsider view. "You saved him from himself. I had known he'd been struggling since the house arrest in Luxembourg, but... one does not make such assumptions about one's employer."

"Ahh." Wufei nodded. That made a certain amount of sense. "Of course. Is there anything with which I may assist you?"

The man was pulling something up on his computer, looking. "I was going to ask you the same. Let's see, some meetings you might not have gotten to discussing... There is a conference in Sanc in a couple months that he must attend, so I'm making some recommendations on meetings to cancel to give a little more down time before that. The nations are sending parliamentary level representation to this meeting; it's the confirmation meeting, which is at a world leader level and can't be missed. We're expecting unrest between May and the July 19th elections." Something about that seemed to please Trevelyan, and he added as an aside, "Whatever the damage settles out to be, his Excellency hasn't lost his sense of humor."

He looked at the man blankly, expression confused. "Would you mind explaining precisely how any of that is related to his sense of humor?" The politics of things were a bit nebulous, mostly because it had been some time since he'd been on this level of things regularly. The sense of humor part was quite beyond him.

"Oh, uh." The man blinked at Wufei, and seemed unsettled to have someone who didn't share the same cultural references as him asking for an explanation. "Moderates overthrew Robespierre in Thermidor, the month, during the original French Revolution. Thermidor begins July 19. An auspicious date for voting to start on founding a new government. OZ is, of course, tasked with providing structural security while election oversight is led by Sanc."

At least part of that was something he knew, and he weirdly made the connection through art history and _The Death of Marat_. "That makes things much more clear, thank you for explaining. Yes, that does sound strangely like him, in fact." The fact that he knew as much made him wonder just how long he had known that, and why, and when he had noticed it. "As for the others, I'll take your recommendations into consideration and postpone appropriately."

"I would say maintain meetings with leadership, diplomatic obligations and Colonel code-level only. I've sent you the expected calendar of meetings for Sanc in May." The man leaned back in his chair, looking keenly at Wufei. "I'm sorry you ended up here this way. Hopefully you come to enjoy your time here."

That was kind of him. "Thus far, my time has proven instructive. And I can say with absolute certainty that this is far more interesting and much better than the place we were held originally." He paused. "Thank you very much for your kindness."

The man waved him off, dismissive of the thanks. "I'm sure His Excellency has some plan in his head to correct this injustice. But let me know if there is something else I need to do, please."

Wufei sighed. "I'm not a morning person. Sincerely. If everyone could possibly lose all expectations of coherency from me until the second cup of tea or coffee, I would be very grateful." There was a reason most of his attacks had been made at night, and it wasn't just because that was when he was least expected.

"Done. I'll let the other staff know." He was grinning now, and it felt good to have a conspirator. "Do you want an office space of your own? Or there's the extra desk in his office we can have set up for you. With coffee."

That was something to be considered quite carefully. "The extra desk in his office. That way I can keep an eye on him and decide when he needs to stop. I get the feeling that he won't without someone telling him as much."

"You're one hundred percent correct. Usually that's an asset; right now, not so much. I'll have the desk set up and ready for you once you manage to get him to vacate for the day." Trevelyan glanced around his watch. "I would say if you don't hear anything near the door it might be safe to interrupt."

"Thank you for your advice." The man knew more about the household than probably anyone else; only a very stupid person wouldn't listen to him, and Wufei wasn't stupid.

Drawing in a deep breath, he exited the small side office and went closer to the door where, upon hearing nothing, he knocked and then pushed it open without waiting for an invitation to enter.

The datapad was shut and flat on the desk, and Treize had his back to the door, the chair turned around to look out the window. "Close the door behind you."

He did so and stepped further into the office, going to stand where he, too, could see out the window. There was nothing particularly exciting; the day was gray and obviously cold, and there were people walking hurriedly along the street.

It was just... quiet. It was quiet and people were going about their business, like there hadn't just been decades of hard military control and a couple of years of fraught mech-fought wars that spilled into the capital cities often with no warning. Treize sighed, and scruffed a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I think we'll actually pull this off."

Wufei raised an eyebrow. "The call was that interesting, then?"

He exhaled slowly, fingers rubbing at the back of his head on the right side. "Yes. Yes it was. Relena has such hope, and it's hard to get her to listen to pragmatism when it comes to security. Just because Pilot 01 never could bring himself to assassinate her doesn't mean everyone loves her."

"Once 01 has a cause he believes in, he will quite literally die trying. Perhaps the thing to do is put him in with the security brigade and allow him to do what he does best." And didn't that sound odd, as if he could just change sides with no issues as easy as that. They had lost, though, and the best thing would be to go on with their lives and the choices that had been made for them.

He made a scoffing noise. "I already _have_. And Pilot 03. Getting her to listen to reason about the threat has been... harder." One day he would work out why Treize sometimes called them by their names and why it was designators sometimes, and what the switch was that flipped. "Ah well. Have you come to drag me off?"

Just as easily as all that, as if he didn't want to put up a fight. "We should review a few of your upcoming meetings, but yes. It's time for you to rest, and I don't think you've sufficiently worn yourself down enough that allowing you to navigate the stairs is a risk." Certainly not as large a risk as having him tumble himself out of the lift.

"Which meetings are we reviewing?" He ran a hand back through his hair, trying to look less tired and mussed, and turned his chair around before reaching for the crutches. "I know I have a briefing with intel tomorrow."

Wufei paused. "Hm. Yes, and that's fine. We can bring up datapads and discuss it later, I think. You look as if you might need a nap."

There was a twitch of his mouth that one might call humoring, or possibly acknowledgement of being humored. He got to standing, which left Wufei with hands free to gather up the datapad. "If the weather were nicer, I'd go sit on the roof and drink, but. Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right," Wufei informed him. Except, of course, when he was wrong. That wasn't a frequent occurrence in some ways and was altogether too frequent in others.

"How did your French go today?" He asked it casually, while they headed out of the office, Treize pushing the door open with a mildly gleeful shove of his shoulder that actually yielded an, "Ow! Oh, sir, apologies," from the woman who had chatted at Wufei in the kitchen that morning. 

Clearly Treize hadn't been back in residence long enough for all of the staff to work out the door went both ways.

"It remains execrable," Wufei informed him, giving a faintly apologetic look at the woman. "I must improve immensely if I want to continue speaking to people. I refuse to have someone speak another language in pity."

"It might not be pity." He was moving at a good steady pace toward the stairwell, and added in what might have been a teasing voice, "It might be irritation."

Unfortunately for Treize, that actually made him quite cheerful. "A much better reaction, I can assure you."

"Then it is safe to say that any francophone who swaps languages for you is not doing so out of pity, but for love of their language and the sanctity of their ears. I suspect I'd have the same problem in China." He got to the bottom of the stairwell, and seemed to eye it before he moved to the left side of the stairwell, handing Wufei his left crutch. "Can you carry this crutch? I've had a bright idea."

Oh dear god. "Please explain this bright idea, preferably before you break something vital. Say, your other leg."

"The handrail is sturdy. In fact, you don't want to know how sturdy. Ask Lucrezia." And he didn't explain, but started up the stairs using the handrail and the right crutch together to mount the first stair. It worked remarkably well, actually, and Wufei felt quite pleased that the idiot wouldn't be tumbling down them willy nilly, which had seemed a good possibility the last time he'd trekked up them.

"I might want to know," Wufei objected mildly. "It is entirely possible that I would be greatly interested."

Once he had made it to the landing at the second floor, and made it to the next handrail, he commented, "This is one of those stories better told by a participant, rather than an observer. Lady LeCompte was enjoying a rather vigorous ménage a trois which ended in the man involved sliding down the railing. As I said, Lucrezia can tell it much better, as she was far less drunk than I was."

"In front of all and sundry?" And if he sounded absolutely appalled by that, well. It wasn't as if orgies had been on his list of personal experiences, nor were they ever likely to be.

"That's usually how orgies go, yes," Treize commented blithely, starting up the second set of stairs. "I do have a terrible reputation that I warned you about."

Dear god in heaven. "I didn't expect it to be _that_ terrible." He sounded a little strained. "I hope I'm not expected to participate?"

"Hmn? No, no, that was probably five, six years ago." Did that imply it was a phase or something that just hadn't happened recently?

Either way, this was a bit of a culture shock. "Is that... common amongst OZ and its cohorts?"

"Much more common within Romefeller. So I suppose you could say I brought my Specials staff colleagues down with me. Or up? It was a different society. You have to remember we were a cloaked military wing within the Alliance, operating... in parallel."

"And having orgies on the landings," Wufei said as they reached the third landing, vaguely appalled. "I may never touch anything in this place again."

Treize seemed oddly pleased with himself. "I wouldn't worry about it. As I said, it's been ages. That was one of the last great tasteless hurrahs of the Specials. Dorothy’s father was still alive."

Ha. "And... no, no, I don't actually want to know," he decided. "Give me your keys and I'll open the door. Have your other crutch."

"Thank you." Actual orgies. He wondered why Treize had been so angry to see him downstairs and in the crowd of staff dressed lightly, if it was something he had stopped or tried to stop doing? Perhaps it was a bit like being an alcoholic and giving up drinking, and scantily clad people made him wish that he could continue to indulge in them?

In any case, he opened the door to Treize's suite and held it for him as he clomped through, the thud of the crutches audible on the floor below, Wufei didn't doubt. "Right. Trevelyan made recommendations about the meetings that are most important and which ones can be rearranged with fewer difficulties."

"He's always had a good eye for that. And what do you think?" the man asked, over his shoulder as he headed through the suite towards his bedroom.

"I think he knows you well," Wufei replied, curling into his now customary place on the cabriolet and pulling one of the French primers into his lap, scowling at it. 

"He started in the family when my mother married. I think he was a stable boy then." He could hear the armoire opening, but didn't look. "I suspect the only reason he hasn't run off or robbed the family blind is that he's been well compensated for his trouble."

Wufei suspected it was more likely that he quite liked Treize and was actually devoted to him. "Hm, something like that, I suppose."

"I can hear the face you're making." He'd just bet Treize could. It still took him a while to change clothes, and then the man disappeared into the bathroom while Wufei read. He just kept an ear out for the clumping of the crutches.

"Of course you do." It sounded ridiculous, and he couldn't have said it in French for love or money. "That's because you're too familiar with that face at this point. It's a face of disappointment." The fact that this was a conversation he was having with a person who was basically his jailer after only two weeks seemed... bizarre. Outright strange, but everything in his life had changed that quickly for the last several years, and so he decided not to question it.

Then again, for all the fact that the man was his jailer, he wasn't good at it. It wasn't much of a jail when one held their own keys. He could hear the sound of Treize coming back to the study on his crutches. "It's easy to be glib, I confess."

"Come and teach me more of this blasted language." He wondered if everyone else was as bizarrely comfortable in their captivity.

When he made it to Sanc, he would have to talk to Duo, if it were allowed. Treize settled himself on the fainting couch, comfortable and more relaxed than he had been a week ago. "Tell me what happened when it got to be too much. Was it the speed of the words or the vocabulary?"

"The speed. It all blurred together and became more than I could reasonably understand when it did. They slur a bit more, I think?" He already knew four languages. Sometimes his brain crossed in weird ways and he could only think of the word he wanted in one of them.

"Hmn." Treize closed his eye for a moment, thinking. There were work things to be discussed, but there was no need to dive into it. "We could watch a media stream in French with Mandarin subtitles? Cantonese?"

"Mandarin, please," Wufei advised, and that was something of a relief. Maybe he would be better able to work it out if they could stop and go back again, listen to the words more closely.

"I've found it helps with the cadence and timing and some of those subtle link words. I used it to reinforce my English." Treize sat up a little, looking thoughtful. "I have a projector somewhere in here."

Letting him get up to find it would be idiocy on both of their parts. "Tell me where to dig, then. So long as I don't find random orgy props, I expect it will be fine."

"Props. You're doing it wrong if you need props." He rubbed at the back of his head, looking thoughtfully at a couple of the elegant sideboards whose drawers hid who knew what horrors. "Perhaps in that one." Treize gestured to the one closer to the bedroom.

He began delving into it, pulling out drawers and there were a number of gadgets in each of them. Sometimes duplicates thereof. Exactly how many of a thing did one man need? There were uniform castoffs in there as well, and a drawer that seemed to be bits of ribbon and incomprehensible rank markings, medals and medallions, and a couple of pairs of gloves; it was under that mess that he found a slim projector, a power source, and a handgun.

Good god, the man actually was suicidal. That or he just discarded random bits of things in drawers and forgot about them, which was also a high probability. Shaking his head, Wufei picked up the projector and its power source and moved back to the cabriolet. "Where do I plug it in?"

"The coffee table." He leaned off of the fainting couch slowly, and pressed a button that brought a small screen out of what Wufei had thought was purely yet another antique. "And just point it at one of these obnoxiously white walls. Now, what to make you watch."

"God help me, with you, I haven't any clue. It could be almost anything," Wufei muttered. "But perhaps something with which I am already familiar would help?"

"Probably." The man was smiling at him as he said that, looking at the datapad he'd brought up. "Name a few movies you've seen."

Wufei reeled off a few, large run series that had been translated into multiple languages, and sat down to poke through his primer.

"What if I say that it won't help you to watch Terminator. It's not native French, it's English shit. It won't be the same." Treize was looking thoughtful even as he leaned a bit on his bad leg.

He couldn't help shrugging. "It's a remake of a remake of a remake of a remake, the concept is... pretty legitimately terrible, actually. Fine. What do you suggest?"

"I've found something to amuse myself while I look for an actual movie that will make you have to think." He pressed something, and then kept his head down, as, as promised, a French voice began to narrate over light piano, and a cat came on screen. It was an ancient clip, the aspect ratio was all wrong, but it was subtitled in mandarin as promised.

Wufei couldn't decide whether it was amusing or something else. "It's a cat. Named Henri. I'm not sure if that is the single most French thing I have ever seen or not."

But Treize couldn't stop laughing, and clearly it was the funniest thing Treize had seen, or making Wufei watch it was funny to him, which was an even split. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh shit, it's every stereotype of film overlaid on a cat, there's a series of them..."

"Show me all of them."

Because it _was_ funny and he liked cats, so why not? Pets had been incredibly expensive on colony, but he had found cats to be quite enjoyable while he was on Earth. He wouldn't mind having one, he supposed, and said as much. "Not now, of course," he demurred, "I'm sure that's not something that would be allowed." Except perhaps it would, who knew with Treize?

The man still had a bright eyed expression when he answered. "It would. I had this absurd orange beast that Zechs fished out of a dumpster as a kitten. He's with Trevelyan's children now, another refugee from house arrest. I miss him sometimes, but not enough to uproot him." He cleared his throat, and brought up something else as another clip of Henri wound down. "Lady Une left this on the server. There are a couple hundred seasons of it, and it's watchable. Je l’étranglerais."

"I... would... strangle him?" Well, that did sound interesting. Possibly insane, but interesting. "So you're saying I should start searching for kittens in dumpsters, then?" It seemed unlikely. "Or... I could go to a pet store?" That was exciting, just a little.

"Yes to either. It's a bit early to start fishing them out of strange places, but another few weeks, yes." Show playing now with the appropriate subtitles, Treize leaned back as he settled again on the sofa, watching. "I never could work out the plot because I never saw more than ten minutes at a time. It's set in Nancy and I think half the town ends up murdered on a regular basis."

He felt ridiculously like a child being promised something. He would have to look up information on pets, he supposed. "So typical of murder shows, then."

"Yes. I think..." He hesitated, and lapsed into quiet while the opening lines were said. There was something about the cadences when he read sounding different in his head, the cadences he was reading on the screen. And Treize sounded different as well, accented, even if he was smooth and unquestionably fluent. "Everything ended a mess with Lady Une. I'm afraid she had expectations. It wasn't fair to her."

Well, no, orgies weren't fair to anyone. Wufei could only imagine that it would give someone quite a number of expectations, all things considered. The fact that Treize was sharing this with him felt strange, a little uncomfortable. "To have expectations?"

It was likely that he'd taken his afternoon dose of painkillers while in the bathroom, which had consistently proved to be a good reason for the man not to be in the office after taking them. "She wanted me to marry her; I was planning the end. It was... a divergence of direction. I sometimes wondered if she watched this when I was around to signal something to me."

"That she would like to strangle you?" Wufei hummed. "Well, it's clearly not a desire in conflict with the urge to sleep with you, then."

"Some people even do it for fun," Treize quipped, leaning his head back against the raised armrest. Wufei glanced over and then returned his eyes to the screen, watching the show.

"Yes, they're called serial killers."

He gave a sleepy sounding tsk, shifting his position slightly. "Artfully dodged double entendre."

"Nap," Wufei told him, and kept his eyes on the screen.

"Oui, Maître." He pulled at a pillow, settled comfortably with both hands holding his own shoulder, eye closed.

Oh, honestly. Still, it was for the best that he napped, so Wufei put up with being called master and settled in to watch the show. By the time Treize began to wake, he'd seen almost three episodes and wasn't sure how a town that size was going to survive a murder once a week.

Particularly after the last one had involved two murders. And he did want to strangle the male lead, but the female police pathologist seemed overly involved in the field cases. "Hmn, you stayed." Treize sounded groggy, unwinding himself from himself slowly.

"Listening with the subtitles is helpful," Wufei answered, distracted. He had draped a throw over the other man earlier because he himself had felt cool, and had continued watching the show.

Treize made a noncommittal noise and shifted, sitting up a little, quiet and possibly following along for a few minutes. It hadn't been a bad show at all so far, and he was starting to get a feel for how the words mapped back to something more familiar, the clip at which they spoke.

When they reached the end of the episode, Wufei paused and looked at him. "Feeling refreshed?"

He had pushed the throw down to his hips, and was looking a bit more bright eyed. "Yes. I suppose I was more tired than I thought. I started the morning reading blocks of proposed rules, and it was downhill from there."

"You missed lunch," Wufei advised. "Shall I call down and have someone bring something up?"

"Please." He sat up, taking a moment to orient himself before he reached for his crutches. "Did that help?"

"Immensely. You're now obligated to watch this with me until I'm fluent. At least three episodes a day." Wufei was immensely pleased with himself. The man clearly had no idea how to relax and would need to be taught. Admittedly, Wufei's choice of relaxation lent more to reading, but this would suffice until he could speak a bit better.

Films and shows seemed to be something Treize didn't need to be dragged into at gunpoint. It got a wry sort of smile out of Treize, and he stayed still for a moment, rubbing at the back of his head for a moment. "I think there was something absurd, twelve seasons of it. Just so you know what you're getting into."

Wufei shrugged. "If it helps with the language, it doesn't matter." Reaching over, he lifted the phone and spoke on it in terrible childish French that only a toddler could probably understand. The kitchen assistant was horrifyingly patient with them, at least, and he shortly had a late lunch being brought up for them. Hopefully it wouldn't be something horrifying because he'd fucked up the words.

He was fairly sure that Treize's staff wouldn't spite him for his mangled use of the language, if only because the blowback would hit Treize as well. Treize had gotten up, disappeared into the bathroom, and was back, stretching and standing restlessly with the crutches held appropriately while he gave the fainting couch something of a baleful look. "Have you started to look at the schedule for the Sanc conference?"

"I'll pull it up now." Wufei had long since removed his jacket and waistcoat, rolling up his sleeves in order to be more comfortable. "Sit before you fall."

The pants to his suit were at least comfortable; the fabric was close fitting but flexible, and did well for sitting in for hours. "You say that as if I'd done it yet." But he sat down, setting the crutches aside.

Those damn shorts were some kind of sin. Possibly a mortal one, and it would make any man less confident than Wufei fretful. "It's better to be safe than sorry with you."

"I know this isn't an ideal situation for you, but I appreciate your willingness to help. I thought I was the one who had the babysitting duty, but it seems we've reversed." He leaned back on his hands, and glanced at the datapad Wufei was holding.

Wufei looked up at him. "We lost. I was expecting execution, not... this." He waved one hand. "I am very much aware that things could be worse. This is clearly the better choice, and I would be bored if I didn't have something to do."

"You might have been expecting execution, but you should have freedom. At least, you should have the freedom to tell me where to shove it and find work elsewhere, if you even need to work." He rolled his neck, and seemed to settle. "The agenda."

Wufei huffed out a breath. "I have the time to do what I need to do." He wasn't stupid enough to have left any of his assets in his own name, after all. "First thing on the agenda."

Reviewing it wasn't bad. He was getting an idea of how Treize thought, and how he viewed those meetings, with annotations of whom he expected to be in each one and their individual pressure points and interests. He had an interest in the spatial layout, in where people would be, with an eye to both security and interpersonal manipulation so Wufei found himself making two sets of notes; one for Treize to share with Sally, Noin, Dorothy and Relena, and one for Treize's internal... monologue was the wrong word for it, perhaps personal notes. There were documents to pair with each meeting, many of which were still flying around in drafts for which the 'downstairs' staff were still supporting the development.

"I can't decide if I'm impressed or horrified that this is the way you look at the world," Wufei finally said once they had everything settled. Lunch had arrived at some point and they were still eating the sandwiches that had been brought.

"What part of it horrified you?" Treize seemed amused, relaxed; not overly stressed at all by talking it through with Wufei. He hadn't referred to his own datapad, which was still abandoned and closed on the coffee table since they'd come up.

"The sheer conniving cunning of it, I think," he decided, munching on the sandwich and appreciating it.

Treize sipped at his tea, and alternated it with a bit of food. "You didn't really think these things just happened, did you? That we actually showed up without our own agendas?" He hadn't expected Treize's agenda to be quite so... pro-colony. Or at least, not-anti-colony.

Wufei shrugged one shoulder. "I assumed, but I don't think I quite had any idea of the extent of it. I was more worried about trying to wrap my head around what was coming next. It's a miracle anyone ever figures out anything that you're thinking."

"It's served me well. This is a small scale version, but necessary. I'll add to what you've taken down after I've slept on it." There were weeks of thought and work to add to it, in and around what Wufei was thinking of as the 'day to day'.

"Slept a full night on it, you mean." Wufei closed the datapad with a nod. "Right. It's not quite 1700. Would you like to watch more of this or would you like to do something else?"

"The day doesn't go by as fast when you're resting as it does when you're working," he noted wryly. "I should drag myself upstairs and perform PT in the gym, so there's one less thing for you to rat me out to Watson about."

"Because I will. It's the thing to do." Wufei shrugged. "You were going to kill yourself if you kept working like that. You're still adjusting. The last thing anyone needs at this point is to deal with the fallout of a spoke in the wheel breaking, and you are that spoke." He paused. "I haven't actually been upstairs, so I think I will come with you."

Treize's face went carefully blank, a carefully crafted non-reaction that was a reaction if one was watching a smirk slide away. "You'll like the view. It's where you'll be able to find me as soon as it stops being so cold." He started to stand up, balancing carefully with the crutches for a moment.

"All right." Wufei nodded then paused. "Are you going dressed like that?" Because those shorts were positively indecent. "I'll need to change if you need time."

He did have sneakers on, slim running shoes that were old and a little battered looking. "These are for running. They're part of the issued uniform." There was an amused, half incredulous note. "I'll just start up the stairs. You'll probably catch up to me."

"...right." Wufei looked at him. "You know I meant the shorts, yes?" Just to verify because it felt an awful lot like Treize meant the shoes.

"I meant the shorts." There was a pause and he quirked his eyebrow at Wufei. "OZ issued. Zechs called them 'Specials panties'. They're very comfortable, and if anyone is still in the building they know not to come up to the fourth and fifth floors." Never mind that to Wufei both locations seemed like fine places to slink off to for slacking, but.

Good god. "Right," Wufei said. "I will take myself next door to change, then." And not think about the fact that anyone had ever called anything _Specials panties_.

Treize gave him a nod, and started for the door; Wufei supposed he didn't need to be supervised up the stairs, since he'd had a long nap and lunch, and hadn't pressed hard at the overwork all day. It was a relief, partially because he had no urge to see the man dead at this point and partially because it was better not to be in a position to be blamed for his death.

Treize wasn't at the head of the stairs anymore by the time he changed, so Wufei went up them, feet quick, pace steady. These stairs weren't the same as the others; they were made of a slightly different stone and pattern. Wufei's guess was that the upper floors had been servants quarters at some point in the past. He half-wondered when the place had been changed, when it had been transformed to half an office building. Five, ten years ago? There was a door at the top and it opened into a low ceilinged space that definitely made him think of servants quarters. The floor was laid with mats, there was fencing equipment off to one side, a treadmill, some free weights, barbell and bench, and the exercise bike that Treize had managed to get onto, though his crutches had fallen to the floor. 

A glorious bank of windows covered the entire back wall overlooking the city. Quatre had once said something to him about how beautiful Earth was, everything so different from the colonies. Wufei had agreed at the time, but he'd been thinking of the beauty of remote mountains and forests. This was an entirely different kind of beauty, and he thought that it might just have taken away his breath a bit.

He hadn't felt it watching the people on the street, but now, with the city stretching out before them, interspersed with snow dusted trees, the sun just starting to drop below the horizon... Wufei could understand the draw of the balcony beyond the banks of windows and French doors if he'd been dressed much warmer.

"I missed this."

"It's exquisite." He had to know that, had to know precisely what a view like this might be worth. Wufei wondered how anyone could ever leave it willingly.

But people did strange things. "Yes." He was peddling at a steady pace, eyes fixed forward. "Haven't properly appreciated it in some time."

Preferably with a drink in hand, at a guess, because how could someone not? "It will be warmer soon." At least he thought so, and then proceeded to the mats and began katas, stretching slowly with every move.

It was quiet except for the sound of the bike whirring softly, clicking occasionally as Treize changed something or another that it was doing. He tuned that out, and fell into his katas, finding it relaxing, and that the view helped as he let his mind go blank.

The peace of doing something that he'd known most of his life just felt good, felt easy. His body knew what to do without him thinking about it, and when he broke into something more complicated, it felt natural, like it was wringing tension out of him, and that was a great deal better than doing it when he was trying to keep his mind from thinking about what came next, what battle, anything at all.

He didn't need to do anything. Nothing came next except to be ready, to breathe and stay connected to his body, to be prepared.

Even if the man he'd been preparing to fight was not fifteen feet away and somewhere in his own head as he clicked something on the exercise bike and kept peddling steadily. He was starting to look hot and sweaty. Wufei wondered how much time had passed and how long he was supposed to do that.

"How frequently did Dr. Watson advise that you do this and for what amount of time?" Because he was nosy and because he didn't like the idea that he'd have to find some way to get him back downstairs if he overexerted himself.

"At least thirty minutes, once a day." He didn't sound out of breath at all, which was a good sign, Wufei supposed, though he was stopping now, slowing. "And, made it to thirty-five. Fuck that is a bone deep ache."

"There's a reason he said thirty." Pointed, yes, but also precisely the reason why.

"At least thirty." He set his feet down, rubbing the heel of his hand along the top of his left leg for a moment, grimacing. "When I'm not dependent on crutches, I'd like to duel you again."

"All right." He was clearly better at it than Wufei, which did not make him happy in the least, no, but it did make him want to correct the problem. "When you're healed and cleared."

"I was going to the Olympics in 174 for fencing when everything went to hell with the colonies." And the last Olympics had ended up being the 170 games, which had been pretty politically fraught. China had exiled his people that year and they'd hosted it that year, he vaguely recalled. "Well, went to hell the second time."

"That explains why you beat me so easily, I suppose." Wufei stretched, the line of him pulling up tall, spine stretching. It popped in a couple of places, and he thought that perhaps he should have taken a nap as well.

"It perhaps wasn't fair. I'd missed 170 because I was deployed." Treize was quiet, not a lapse of quiet, but a thoughtful quiet as he looked at Wufei. "Supporting the Alliance with the unrest in China."

"Ah." What he was supposed to say about that, Wufei didn't know. He well remembered it; his parents had done their best to protect him, but none of them had gone without some trauma related to the incident. After Meiran died, he had dated one of the few remaining Nǚjié zú. Mu Tsu hadn't been so lucky. "Thank you for telling me, I suppose." What else could he say? That they had all suffered? That he knew someone who woke up screaming for his childhood friends? That so many people had died? 

Treize was quiet, and he could half imagine the man looking for the right words, the right pressure point to use when he opened his mouth, all elegant planning as he had laid out for the conference in may. If it weren't for the sometimes jagged affect he saw, he would have been convinced the man's head was full of gears.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't. Hadn't thought about that in years." He rubbed at his face, looking deeply uncomfortable.

"I was five." Wufei was quiet. "My partner was six. My wife was four. It was... traumatic." At least his mother had managed to cover his face, keep him from seeing his father die. Meiran had been luckier and hadn't been in any of the worst hotspots. Mu Tsu... Well.

He could _remember_ the mobile suits, moving in twos and threes, but it was jumbled snaps of memory and feeling. And somewhere out there, Treize had been in a suit. And then the man's mobile suit units had been there again at L5. Atrocity after atrocity, how many other incidents around the world had the 'Specials' been brought out to fight people down to their knees?

Treize's mouth was compressed in a tight line. "I'm sorry."

"I don't even know what we did that made anyone think we were that dangerous." That was true. They had just been living there, going about their daily lives. Building a Gundam hadn't crossed anyone's mind until it became obvious that they needed some kind of protection once they had gone into exile. They hadn't moved fast enough, because they weren't prepared when they came again.

Wufei knew that he had done terrible things, had committed acts of pure terrorism. He had gone out of his way to target sites that wouldn't involve children, though, Victoria aside. He had done his best.

"You were a threat to the power structure. You were a cultural minority and your people didn't forget their past fast enough for the government's taste. You were scapegoats for systemic problems. You were Other." He shifted off the bike, balanced on his good leg and used the seat to support himself as he picked up his crutches. "You hadn't done anything."

Well. That much was true, Wufei knew. He just didn't understand how anyone could massacre an entire village. "The Nǚjié zú were wiped out almost in their entirety."

"The minister and head of mission knew of them. The memory has lasted." He managed to get both crutches, balancing carefully, and got himself standing.

"Thank you for telling me." He didn't know what else to say. "If you would like, we could go back downstairs now." He needed time.

He needed time and space to think, and in response Treize nodded, giving him silence as well as he made his way to the door.

Not another word was said, and they parted ways at their doors.

* * *

He'd been dreaming of the wars.

There was no question why; he hadn't thought of it in years, as more than a footnote, one more battle. The locals had fought back with bottle bombs, grenades, and traps on the ground, creative in their resistance. They had taken out more pilots and suits than he wanted to think about and his unit had responded with crushing force.

He was probably hallucinating that Sally was judging him through the morning video call huddle.

Wufei was off to the side, and he had been quiet for most of the week, working efficiently, making his way through the days normally, even staying to watch the murder show. He went up with Treize when he did PT and came back down to his own suite. Treize thought he hadn't been sleeping well because he was slower than usual in the morning.

He didn't say anything because he knew why and it was his fault. Eventually, he always said something that broke whatever bond he was forming with whatever other human being he'd been talking with. It just usually took him longer to do it. 

"We've signed off on the security plan and foresee no problems meeting that level of manning," he commented.

 _"Yes, I do think that should be fine,"_ Sally agreed. _"I've been working with Noin to be sure we have an accurate understanding of exactly what we should have available on each of the staging dates. I think we have a good plan in place there as well."_

"Good. I saw the intel update, thank you, Lady, and we're moving resources against the identified threats." He saw Wufei move slightly, from the corner of his eye. He wasn't looking directly at Treize, just looking away, so obviously he was still having difficulties related to their discussion.

_"You're more than welcome, Your Excellency."_

He suppressed an urge to rub at his head, or make any obvious gestures. "Relena. You've been quiet. A civilian perspective?"

 _"Hearing you talk about moving resources against identified threats is disconcerting. It makes me uneasy,"_ she replied. _"I know that we have to be ready, it's just..."_

"It sounds terrible. But you've reviewed the same package we have; the night letters that have been circulated in the Caucuses are a clear threat to the civilian population from a known military organization."

Relena nodded. _"So everyone we're worried about falls into a known organization and not..."_

"This is being handled from a peacekeeping perspective, not a political power perspective. We have no interest in who wins, only that voting proceeds unobstructed." His head hurt, watching everyone's face for their subtle gestures.

 _"Right."_ Dorothy leaned in. _"Is everyone satisfied that we're on track for our current requirements?"_

He waited until there was a round of nods, and then nodded himself so he wasn't leading the damn meeting just for the lack of anyone else leading it. "My staff have passed the proposals back, and we'll leave off the editing until everyone else has finished."

 _"Sounds like a plan,"_ Sally returned, and in short order they had all managed to agree and get ready to sign off.

 _"Your Excellency, if we could speak?"_ Ah. Une.

"Of course, Lady." Of course. He owed her that for her years of excellent service and their time together in the specials.

They waited until everyone else had signed off. He saw her lean in. _"You look tired. Tell me how you're doing."_

He sat back in his chair, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm improving. You look as if you've been doing well."

 _"Quite well. I've been very busy, as I'm sure you have been."_ She paused. _"I've seen the changes in your schedule so I thought surely you must have someone helping and looking after you."_

She was looking into his schedule; that wasn't a good sign, was it? "Wufei has been mindful of making sure I adhere to doctors orders." He looked away from the screen to where Wufei was sitting and lifted an eyebrow at him.

Wufei raised his own eyebrow back. Was that a good sign? He hoped that was a good sign. 

Une smiled at him, and it was soft, somehow reassured. _"That's excellent. You don't do well left to your own devices. For a man who's so smart and capable, you never care for yourself as much as you care for everyone else."_

"There's a great deal I still need to fix before I'll feel comfortable doing that. Are you happy where you are?" It wasn't asking her to come back. He knew a burned bridge, but he would have to keep working with her.

_"I think so, yes. It's a new challenge, and it feels better to be a little more integrated with myself. I still worry about you, of course. Decades of habit are just like that, I fear. You're looking better. I'm glad."_

He could reassure her, or he could turn the topic back to her, and that was easier. It was a relief as well to talk to her and feel little but a fondness. "You seem... more relaxed. How are things going in Sanc?"

That allowed the conversation to devolve into something less personal, and that was a strange sort of comfort. He was glad that they could do that, that they could speak to one another that way. His head was pounding by the time they finished and he was fairly certain he wasn't hiding it well.

He cut the call at last, Une no doubt feeling much better while he was quite done, and closed the datapad, closed his eye. "And how are you doing, Wufei?"

"Better than you," Wufei replied, head tilted to the side. "I can shift the secondary meeting you have at 1130 hours. It isn't anything that can't be put off."

"That's shouldn't have been tiring. I haven't done a damn thing." He put his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands, and the whole thing was damn absurd. All of it, trying to keep a peace with civilians who didn't understand, knowing he didn't... dammit. They were all always going to look at him like they expected an atrocity.

It was a surprise when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I've rearranged everything. Come on. It's difficult to adjust, and your concussion isn't helping."

There was an ache in his chest, and the hand on his shoulder felt like too much. "I can't seem to fix anything."

"It isn't your job to fix everything." Except it _was_. He was the wizard, he was the one who was supposed to control all of the pies into which he'd placed his fingers. "You aren't responsible for some of the things you seem to think need fixing."

"Yes, I am. I made decisions, I had choices." He inhaled hard, trying to focus and just... clear his head, something, because his head hurt and there was no damn reason for it. "I know what my reputation is, and why everyone is expecting OZ to turn on them, which is why I can't, I can't be this tired." His face felt hot and his mouth was shaking. Fuck. He wasn't going to move or look up. "I just need a few moments. I'm sorry. I ask too much of you."

Wufei let out a breath. "I'm sorry." He licked his lips, breathing in deeply. "It's been a difficult week. I. I was not expecting what you said to me, and it has taken some time to consider it. War is war. I know that as well as you do. You owe me nothing. Making any choice other than to do as told would have ended just as badly for you as it did for the people I knew and loved."

"What we did..." He had no right to discuss it with Wufei, no position that was viable, nothing to do but apologize because anything else was some weak attempt to justify or create an unconscionable justification. And that hand was still on his shoulder, and he wanted to stand up and grab Wufei because he was there and kept _being_ there when it made no sense that he was even trying.

"I'm aware. I'm aware, and I'm _angry_ , furious, but I also can't sleep and I'm a prisoner, so what good would it do to be angry? So I swallow it because there's nothing else to do about it, and..." He took in a ragged breath. "And I try to meditate and let it go because I know that anger only ends up hurting the person who carries it. What you're carrying, it's only going to hurt you. You have to put it down."

"Be angry at me, goddammit!" 

He moved, slammed his hands on the desk, and surged up to pivot on Wufei, to grab him by his lapels, feeling his face wet with confusion, frustration, he didn't know.

"Why should I be angry at you? You weren't the man behind the curtain then, you were a puppet who let your strings be pulled!" Wufei put his hands over Treize's, face going dark and angry.

"Because of what I did when I got my hands on the strings!" He shoved Wufei up against the wall, and his leg was screaming at him but he could stand and shake the too fucking understanding pilot.

Wufei's teeth were bared and there was a kind of fury that didn't bode well there. Treize shouldn't have been surprised when a quick move had his hands off of Wufei's jacket. He _was_ surprised when, instead of hitting him, Wufei caught his hands and held them together tightly. "Fuck you," he hissed. "Fuck you, I can't fight back, I can't strike you, are you insane? Fuck you!"

"Hit me! Fucking hit me, be angry, be who you are and not a goddamned plaything!" Wufei had his hands at the wrist but he still could shove, using his weight to slam Wufei against the wall again.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" A demand, furious, and Wufei struggled against his weight. He still didn't do anything truly vicious, didn't kick the fixator, didn't strike him in the face. "I am a goddamned plaything! I'm a prisoner of war, what the hell else would you call it?"

"I'm trying to fix it! I can't, fuck, nothing's real." He took a step backward, leg searing now, and Wufei didn't let go of his wrists, and another step back, to lean against the side of his desk.

"What the fuck," Wufei hissed. "I won't give you my anger! You don't get to have it!"

That was that.

His heart was an angry, hard thump in his chest that he could feel in his ears and there was nothing to do and nowhere for it to go, and he couldn't find words that wouldn't make it worse. His throat was tight, and his mouth was sideways and he needed to be alone. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry, you're sorry, but you aren't even sorry for the right things. Why are you sorry?" He looked angry, yes, more than angry, but he was shifting, straightening himself up again. "Do you even know what you're sorry for?"

"I'm sorry we attacked your colony and killed your wife. I'm sorry I didn't kill Septem sooner. I'm sorry I couldn't stop your colony from destroying itself." There were more, it was endless, there was the church, a hundred border skirmishes, uprisings they'd put down, and who was left now, with the Alliance half gone and so much opposition snuffed out but them? What was Sanc?

"You should be sorry for using me to try and kill yourself! I need you to live and to stop being sorry!"

Oh.

That seemed to have startled Wufei, as well. He stared at Wufei, pulled his hands slightly because Wufei still had a death clutch on his wrists. "Why..."

"Because I saw what you didn't see!" And then

He kissed him.

It was touch that had started it, a hand on his shoulder, heat and comfort he didn't deserve, that wasn't real, that didn't make sense, and the kiss made less sense but he wanted it. Didn't dare move his hands, but leaned into it from where he was half sitting on the edge of his desk, opened his mouth and tipped his head in welcome.

When it ended, it was far too soon, and now he was the one wondering what the fuck.

"You're so stupid." Stupid, yes, and he didn't like seeing those tears. He didn't like it at all. "You think ZERO is a straight shot, you think it all leads to a single inarguable outcome. You didn't think to look for something _better_ , and it was there, you just.."

Treize twisted one arm carefully, breaking the grip Wufei had on at least his right wrist, and slid his thumb over the wet on Wufei's cheek. "I'm sorry I used you to try to kill myself. It was easy, and I'm tired and trying to leave the game was a coward's way out."

"You're exhausting." Well. Yes. He was exhausting to himself sometimes. "How did you see me on Mars, then? Because I saw myself alone and fighting again, and peace is a much better option."

He slid his hand back, wrist resting on Wufei's shoulder, thumb by his jaw. "You were alone and alive. I never saw peace, just hope." His blood was pounding less in his head, slowly, but everything still hurt, felt exhausted. Wrung out. "I'm sorry for being exhausting, as well."

"You're so stupid for someone so smart." Wufei looked tired, too. "I've rearranged everything this morning. Let's... let's give up and go upstairs. You need medication. Possibly more medication than you've been given, but I also need medication, and it's upstairs."

"Yes." He leaned in and kissed him again, softly, a press of mouth on mouth and a tug at Wufei's slightly chapped bitten bottom lip. "Yes. I think... giving up for the day is best."

And if he went a little limp, if he didn't want to get his crutches, well. He'd have to get up the stairs to his medication somehow.

Wufei rubbed his face. "I don't want to go out there."

Treize gave a quiet laugh, an exhalation, and leaned back a little as Wufei finally started to let go of his other wrist. "The gossip will keep them going for weeks. Years."

"I came down in pajama pants and a t-shirt the first day. It's more like decades." Very true, that. "We'll have to talk eventually. I... I'm not ready for that yet."

"I wasn't making sense before this." He wasn't sure he was making sense just then, but there was a desperate relief flooding through him that he could handle. It shouldn't have surprised him that Wufei had the grip of some supernatural creature and that his wrist bones ached. He'd deserved that.

"You weren't." Ah, agreement. It didn't feel quite as good as he would have thought.

Still, it was honest, and that had been part of what was bothering him. "Upstairs." In a way, it was permission not to make sense again for a while.

Drawing further away, Wufei handed him his crutches. "All right. But..." He paused and looked away. "I think that I would like to go to my own suite for the afternoon instead of watching anything."

"Of course." He had no right to expect anything, but he was going to hold onto that touch, that implication. That it was something that could be worked with. He would take his pain meds and sleep and try again in the morning, or whenever he woke up.

He could try again.

And something about that made him feel at least a little bit lighter.


	2. Chapter 2

When Wufei awoke, he finally felt rested. There had been no bad dreams for the first time in a week, a weird amalgamation of childhood memories and the explosion of his colony and things that had happened while imprisoned. It was no wonder he'd done something as stupid as kissing Treize Khushrenada while the other man had a mental breakdown of some variety.

Kissing him seemed to have snapped him out of it or he'd shouted the right thing at Treize. It was hard to tell. He'd seen the fraying edges during the meeting, the vague suggestion that Treize was scrambling behind a composed presentation, and then pulled it together again while talking with Une. The concussion was definitely a factor, the way the man kept rubbing at his head, but there was guilt and a mess in his head that couldn't be rubbed away.

He lazed in the big comfortable bed, enjoying the feeling of the sheets against his skin where his pajamas had ridden up. It made him want to stay in bed, roll around in them, just not think about any of the stressful things that seemed to have piled up until it had all exploded during the afternoon. He was still sleepy from the medication, and felt a little... hm. Well, that was surprising, feeling sensual and he stroked a hand up his belly, letting out a sigh.

He could just sink into the mattress and the duvet, pretend the rest of the world wasn't there, and touch his own skin, letting his eyes close.

It had everything to do with the drugs and nothing at all to do with the man who had surged out from behind his desk, enraged with frustration and trying to provoke him to anger.

Oh, what was the point in lying to himself? He knew what had stirred it up, and he wasn't going to lie to himself. It would be ridiculous and stupid, and his other hand picked up the motions, slow stroking, fingers rising until they met a nipple.

That was satisfying, circling it with a dry fingertip and squirming, not quite awake while the feeling of pleasure started to build to a low, interesting ache. Hmm, that was nice, and his fingers stroked, thumb coming up to pinch. That felt good, and he could remember the way Mu Tsu's hair had felt sliding over his skin, Meiran's hands, and hm. Oh, that was a nice thought, and his other hand rose, stroking over the pebbled nub of his other nipple.

Very restful and interesting, a lazy sort of loiter of his own hands across his body, looking for old memories and finding them pretty easily. It had been a long time since he'd relaxed, since he'd had time for anything like this. Since he'd had time to reminisce, to remember what it felt like to be touched, to have pleasure, and fuck. Fuck, that was so nice, the press of his thumb along the crease of his thigh, Mu Tsu had liked the feel of the skin there, and god. Mmm, that was good.

He stretched out his leg, let his fingers linger down along the inside of his thigh. It was peaceful, and he was starting to get hard, but he could ignore that. He could just enjoy feeling, and the softness of a slow, steady rise while he was still drowsy, still on the verge of dropping off to sleep again. What would it feel like, he wondered, when he eventually took another lover? Meiran had liked Mu Tsu. He wondered what she would think about his current situation.

She probably would have hit him, for a start. She'd been fierce, opinionated, practiced at fighting. A natural fighter, and she... He didn't know. She would probably say that he needed someone who wasn't afraid to fight with him, who made him do something that he didn't want to do, who gave him something to push against. Mu Tsu had never fought with him, but that had been just after Meiran died. Perhaps that was because it wasn't what he had needed then.

He definitely needed something, and he sighed, because he wasn't ready to think about it. He was enjoying himself, and he wasn't ready to tackle that problem.

The problem wasn't going away, but neither did it need to be dealt with just then. He could let his fingers curl down, slide behind his balls, teasing himself. Just rubbing while he got harder, hips shifting on the sheets, shivering a little with the pleasure. God, that was... that was so good. It hadn't interested him in a while, hadn't been something he wanted to do, but now, god. Here, which was ridiculous, crazy because he was still a prisoner, but he held his own keys here. He was safe here, it was safe to do this, and his breath hitched.

It was madness, but he was absolutely holding his own keys, and he was locked in with himself, secure and alone and safe while he moved his hand up, brushing the base of his erection.

He was quiet, but he curled his fingers around himself and stroked, loose and dry, giving a sigh. Fuck, that was good. He'd missed that, the pleasure of it and letting himself have it, and fuck, he needed something slick. He liked the dry pull, the friction, but the slick was even better, so he stopped for a moment to check the nightstand. Everything else had been pre-stocked in the suite -- why not?

Trevelyan was clearly a mind reader of some variety, because literally everything someone could think of was included in that drawer. Condoms, lube, dental dams, pretty much anything someone could think of that might have to do with sex. Hell, there were battery operated devices in there. Why hadn't he checked the nightstands before now? Because it felt strange, like he was hovering in place, but it was a suite for his use, not whatever it had been years ago. The lube was enough, it was perfect, and thick when he squeezed it onto his fingers, stroking them together to warm it up before he reached down and ohhh. Ohh, that was... "Hmmmm." God, yes. That was just so good. So good, and he sighed, stretched out again, and just...

Let go. 

Let himself feel and not think, let his fingers and his hips make the decisions, and what he wanted was more, more pressure, more touch, faster.

So good, and he couldn't help gasping as he got closer, rocking up to his hand, and fuck. Fuck, that was so good, that was, that was... amazing, and blank and just sensation, raw sensation as his balls went tight and he strained for it. Maybe the drugs were better than he thought.

When it came, it was lightning, pleasure that shot through him and made it hard to keep quiet, all gasps and soft moans and semen slicking his belly and his fingers. "Fuuuck."

He laid there for a few muzzy moments, fingers sliding through the slick mess, while he contemplated getting up to change and clean up. He didn't have to if he didn't want to. He could roll over and grab a couple of tissues, mop himself up and doze off again, and that sounded like the best idea, so that was exactly what he did.

When he woke later, it was almost evening and he felt immensely better. Something had settled in his mind, and that felt better than he could actually describe.

Something that had happened down in the office had been bothering him, wanting to come out. The veil of pretending had been pulled down, perhaps, and there was an unspeakable relief in having it said out loud, in having argued with Treize. Someone that smart shouldn't be that much of an idiot. As if there would only be one right way to end things? ZERO was fucked up and weirdly layered. It gave battle statistics, yes, but it also had a limited future function if someone fiddled with it long enough, and Wufei had.

Wufei had _looked_. Treize had apparently been happy to end with _everyone goes on but me_. And whatever had driven him to stop looking in ZERO was still in his head. Whatever it was that made a man just tap out hadn't magically resolved itself, which was a shame because Treize was carrying on as if it had. He couldn't fix that. Didn't know where to start unpicking that rats' nest in the man's skull, and it wasn't his responsibility.

There was, distantly and coming from the door, a knocking. "Wufei? I'm going to leave dinner out here for you. Are you awake?"

Groggily, he sat up, grateful he'd mopped up everything. "I'm awake," he called, quickly pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. "What time is it? Sorry, sleeping off a headache." And some pretty hefty anxiety and general distress.

"A little past six. Do you have the spare key to the General's suite?" It was one of those questions that tipped toward _I know you do,_ but in a polite way, for someone holding a conversation through a closed door.

Opening the door, Wufei stepped out, rubbing at his face. "Uh... maybe? The keys are by the door. I've only ever used the one that opened this one."

"He's probably still asleep, but I'd rather not hear the crashing noises and chipped marble floor when he tries to juggle crutches and tray." The man was handing Wufei a covered tray, and sort of subtly maneuvering for the keys at the same time. He also gave Wufei a once over, as if making sure he was all right.

"You really do think of everything, don't you?" It was partly amusing and partly just curiosity. "I don't think he knows how devoted you are to him."

"He knows. It just doesn't do to talk about it. We all lived through it together." Huh. Whatever 'it' was. The man had keys in hand, and stepped back to pick up the other tray he'd set temporarily on the floor, before selecting one to open up the suite next door. "Sir? Treize, are you awake?"

No answer, and that was a little worrisome. Wufei padded across the hall, toes cringing a bit at the cold floor, and followed Trevelyan inside.

He wasn't sure what he expected. Something stupid and dramatic after that morning, not the man curled on his side on the fainting couch, the throw Wufei had dug up pulled over his legs and side. There was an empty glass on the coffee table and a closed photo album. He was definitely asleep and breathing, and the light in the corner of the sitting room was still on. Trevelyan said something in dry French that Wufei thought was about moving the alcohol to the library. Treize hunched into himself for a moment, and brought a hand up to muffle a yawn before saying something quick, and easy. He knew that _connard_ meant _asshole_ but most people didn't smile while saying it.

"Well. Now that I'm sure you're breathing...." Wufei thought about going next door and eating alone. He didn't particularly care to do so. "Would you like company?"

"Yes, please."

Trevelyan nodded at Wufei, and set the tray he was carrying down on the coffee table, careful not to move the closed book. "If that's all, I'm heading home for the night. See you in the morning."

"Thank you, Trevelyan." He rubbed at the side of his face, starting to sit up slowly, orienting himself. He looked better than he had that morning, like he'd slept hard, and that was good. He'd looked frazzled and in pain that morning, and Wufei wasn't sure he liked that at all.

"I'll be back in a moment." He'd go just long enough to get his tray, and not sit so close that Treize could tell what he'd spent part of his afternoon doing. Probably. In any case, he would probably think it impolite to comment.

By the time he grabbed his tray and locked his own door behind him, Treize was sitting upright, with both feet on the ground, and was looking more alert, albeit perhaps a little buzzed from whatever he'd drank. Not drunk, but mellow. Or it was the painkillers. "I apologize for my behavior this morning. I was out of bounds."

Wufei waved a hand. "Stop apologizing. What have you done? Given me a roof over my head, given me something to do, made this easier than it had been. I..." He paused, mouth tilted to the side, eyes directed at the ceiling. "I told you, you didn't look far enough. I knew that some of this would... That it would come to pass. I made a choice. I altered the blow."

"Then I will stop arguing and trust that you chose a better world than I would have." It seemed so easy, and maybe it was. "But it doesn't excuse me for losing my grip this morning and taking it out on you."

Yes, well. "At least try to be healthy the next time we fight so I won't feel terrible if I smack you in the face."

"I'll be sure to be in better shape the next time you want to hit me, so you can do it without guilt." There were other things he wasn't saying, he could see the shiftiness in the man's one damn eye. Wufei wondered if all of his staff read him so well after a handful of weeks. 

When he lifted the lid to dinner, he did not expect to find Beef Chow Fun piled up in a bowl. And it was recognizable as trying to _be_ Beef Chow Fun, even if it might end up tasting nothing like it.

There were even chopsticks.

He was ridiculously pleased by it, and picked them up, breaking them apart and sticking them in immediately. "You need therapy. You realize that, yes?" He took a bite and oh, that was actually quite good.

"I don't know what to do with affection." That was an extremely loaded way to answer 'yes', but it was a yes as far as Wufei could hear it. Treize broke the chopsticks apart as well, and took his time positioning them correctly in his right hand. "And I'm in no position to pursue it now. Spokes in the wheel can't break, nor can they be documented crumbling."

That was an excellent point. "Then keep it in mind as a future possibility." Wufei looked at him. "We should… Should we talk about this morning?" He didn't want to, but obviously Treize was never going to do anything remotely emotionally healthy.

Treize's mouth compressed, as he picked up a piece of beef and some noodle. "We probably should, but I don't know where to start." Which was better than launching into an apology.

"ZERO is..." Wufei shook his head. "ZERO is more complex than battlefield analysis. It's future determinative, it narrows down possibilities at what comes next. If you're looking at battle, it gives you battle, but if you widen it out, it's a lot more open."

"I hardly used it for the battlefield analysis. I ran through so many options. It kept getting worse, it spiraled. And then, there was an option, and it made sense." He stopped to chew. It smelled good, tasted good, and he was hungry. They had both slept through lunch, and medication on an empty stomach wasn't entirely pleasant. "I've lost everyone. I was... done. It was a grim relief to see a way out that ended well."

"Ahhh. Or one that just ended?" Wufei suggested. He'd found ZERO easier to use than some of the other pilots, he knew. Maybe he'd found it easier than Treize, as well? He wasn't sure.

"I thought it ended quite well at the time. Of course, I was building a Gundam while under house arrest." He waved his left hand slightly in a side to side gesture as he ate a little more. "01 enjoys telling people he's going to kill them, but his follow through leaves something to be desired."

Wufei hummed. "Yes, 02 thinks it's the way he shows affection. I think 02 needs therapy, although probably not quite as much as you do." He took another bite, and yes. It was quite good, enough that he wanted more, so he put his chopsticks in again. "I think if he tells you he's going to kill you, he probably never will."

"I was excited by the prospect at the time." Maybe less so now, and that had to be a good sign. Treize hadn't seemed to have done anything stupid, it looked like he'd drank and moped a bit and napped, which wasn't a terrible choice all in all. "I was not enjoying Romefeller courtesy in my own house."

Hesitating, Wufei debated whether it was appropriate to ask, and then threw caution to the wind. "How long have you... felt that way?" Had he tried it before? Was that something he needed to know?

He scruffed his left hand through the hair at the back of his head, probably running a selection of answers through his head. Or pick the right words to make it less... something. "On and off since 186. It's... very hard sometimes. The house arrest was..." He shook his head, a tight gesture. "Perhaps our guards were cut from the same cloth."

That didn't line up with anything Wufei knew, at least not well. It didn't line up with any of the dates he could think of, and then the second part snagged his attention. "How did you..."

Treize dragged his chopsticks through the bowl, and ate a little more. "Prior experience. It's written up in reports as 'inhumane treatment' as long as it's the enemy doing it." The chopsticks lingered against his mouth for a moment, thoughtful, and he started to eat again.

Wufei looked at him, watched the way he just seemed to keep going on, and he was honestly a bit afraid to ask about what might have happened in 186. "Ah. Well. Are we fortunate and whoever it is happens to be dead? Because I can't very well kill the guards that were holding us, so I have to hope for the best."

"01 did an excellent job of that in Luxembourg. The moon base was taken care of, that was too much, too far out of line to be allowed." He glanced up at Wufei. "The guards at Lake Victoria have already been dealt with."

Oh, that was... that was weirdly comforting. "Thank you?" He was pretty sure thank you was precisely what he meant. He took in a deep breath and it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest. "Thank you."

"It's unacceptable behavior." The edge of his mouth tugged a little sideways, and he pushed food around in the bowl for a moment. "You're welcome."

Wufei let out another shaky breath. "You are entirely disconcerting."

Treize ate a bite of noodles, half-watching Wufei. "I have it on good authority, yes."

"So. Your... self-destructive impulses." He didn't want to call it what it was, because it was obvious that he'd just obfuscate. "Do you, how are you feeling about that? On a scale from one to ten?"

"Four." He didn't even stop to think before answering. "It's fine. This morning was... not that problem."

Wufei nodded. "It was a different problem. What was this morning's problem?"

The lack of immediate answer was going to become almost reassuring, because it at least meant he wasn't going to get a glib, easy answer to get Wufei to stop, even if he might distract. "I've been struggling to read, and you touched me."

Black brows knitted together. "You're struggling to read because you have a concussion and you lost an eye. That's to be expected. But why did touching you bother you?" Surely he had done it before, hadn't he?

"I." He watched Treize sit up a little straighter, and tip his head back, studying the wall behind Wufei. "It was the last straw. I couldn't make words make sense to me, and the others are looking to me for guidance, they're not running their own damn meeting, I'm having to explain basic statecraft concepts to the people who should be taking up the mantle and I can't even _read_. And when it was finally over, you... I don't know what to do with affection any longer."

Wufei nodded. He thought seriously about that. "When that four turns into a five, would you tell me? Because I don't know how this goes. I know how it's supposed to go, but..."

"How is it supposed to go?" Whether he was honestly asking or he was trying to bait Wufei into saying something was a question he would have answered differently on day one than he was feeling now. It seemed genuine.

Licking his lips, Wufei drew in a breath. It felt sharp, an ache in his chest. "I saw many different timelines. For lack of a better way to say it. One where you truly died, and I ended up on Mars embroiled in another war. One where we had been--" And this gave him pause before he said it. "--lovers before the Eve War and I thought you had died, but you yet lived." That one had been complicated, a world with ancient science that had saved him somehow. "One where you weren't as injured as you are now, and things went differently. This one." And many others. He had sifted through them when he should have been sleeping or working on something else, but he had wanted to winnow them down to something acceptable.

"What did you see that made you choose this one?" Less death, more stability, he could talk about it in ways that Treize would understand, in resources and people and 'results'.

"It was obvious that we hadn't been lovers before the Eve War, so that one wasn't viable. In the end, it was all a matter of which direction you'd come from and how fast I could react." It hadn't been fast enough, but it was still one of the acceptable lines where they somehow managed to live peacefully when all was said and done. It was perhaps a more circuitous route than he would have liked. It hadn't been easy, so far, and all he had were the broad brush concepts, a few snapshots of things to help guide the way. The distance between the snapshots were too far to be sure of anything day to day. Week to week. 

Treize tilted his head to the side slightly, watching Wufei with a thoughtful expression. " _Why_ did you choose at all?"

That answer seemed obvious, at least to Wufei. "Because I want to have done with war. Don't you? Aren't you tired of it?"

"I tried to use you to kill myself. I think you know the answer to that." He simply lifted an eyebrow at Wufei, and looked back down to the half empty bowl. "What I saw, I, none of those options. It was chaos, or Libra hit Earth, or a colony hit Earth, and I just couldn't find another way out."

For a long moment, Wufei considered what he wanted to say. "I think that ZERO gives us what we expect to see. And I think for you, there was only one ultimate destination. There was one thing you expected to be true above all else, and it was... perhaps it was a relief."

" _Perhaps_ is splitting hairs that don't need to be split. I wanted to go out having achieved everything that needed to be done." Clean and tidy rather than sitting in his suite across from a prisoner Gundam pilot. “I have to hope the poorly laid out plans I'm trying to build now will hold."

"They will." And if that promise seemed to be a bit on the hopeful side, well. There were reasons to be hopeful now. Better ones certainly than there had been. "I had hoped to strike lower. You were moving too quickly." It was as close to an apology as he could manage.

“Tallgeese had a hydraulic problem built into its design to help the maneuverability levels it kept. I'm unsure that would have helped." He ate a little more, and set the bowl down on the tray, chopsticks loose in it as he watched Wufei. "You kissed me."

If he felt himself flush, well. It was with good reason. "Yes." His voice was steady, even. "There were a significant number of timelines where that, well, not exactly that, but us. We. It." He huffed out a sigh. "The probability is quite high that it is a thing which would be pursuable."

"Pursuable." Treize's mouth twitched, curling toward a smile rather than the misery and anger from the morning. "And in this timeline?"

"...yes." He said it after a long pause, and if he fiddled a bit more with his food and his chopsticks, well. It was probably quite strange for someone to hear something like that. "So stop being unbearable and a martyr. Get better. Actually advise someone when you feel unwell." The unspoken _for me_ was there.

Treize sat back on the ridiculous fainting couch, gold and purple, and started to laugh. Really laugh, the faint smile turning to something of a grin. "I'm not sure I can promise to be less unbearable, but I'll try."

"That's all I can ask." It was fine, looking out for him. This was so much better than he had feared it would be, and it was mostly going well. He was strangely not so much a prisoner as he had been afraid he would be, and while there were certainly some oddities in their world and their interactions, it was all explicable. Something about it made a strange sort of sense.

"I'll try to be..." He held the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Less inside my own head."

Wufei pushed another bite into his mouth and chewed slowly before speaking again. "You have staff. You don't have to do everything yourself."

“They're doing everything they can. You see everything OZ is shouldering right now." Or would if he spent as much time in the datastreams as he could have. "I collapsed an organization that outlived its usefulness to Earth and the colonies, but there were unintended consequences."

"I'm saying that I can help more." Admittedly that probably wasn't advisable, at least for OZ. And if the world in general found out that he had more access to things than he should, it probably wouldn't go well. The problem was that he had made a choice, and now he needed to live by it. There was no point in sabotaging the world at large when it was a world in which he had to live.

"What do you want to do?" It wasn't a yes, or a no; he was expecting suspicion, but there was no reaction to that offer other than Treize lowering his hand from his face. "We have more gaps to be filled than people."

Wufei shrugged. "I can figure out most anything. Not something boring. If you need columns added, that's what datasheets are for, not me."

"There's a staff document that needs to be revised before we can release it to the other sectors. It's written in Universal. It's the policy for banning child soldiers and transition plans on what to do with those already in the forces." He indicated Wufei with a slight nod.

"Of course." Wufei paused and tilted his head to the side. "How many do you estimate remain?"

"Under the age of eighteen on Earth, half a million. The colonies haven't disclosed their numbers, but we believe comparable, based on intel. The... what to do with them now that there's a change of policy is hard. What's the cut off age for those who want to stay in? What kinds of structures and educational facilities do we need to build for those who need to be reintroduced to society. If the document were in French, I would have been done, but..." That was probably what had made him so volatile and upset before the meeting had even started that morning.

"Reading in Universal isn't difficult for me. I can handle that." And he would. Wufei had a fair idea of what sorts of structures and educational facilities would be needed, and something in him perked up at the idea of planning such a thing. He never would have thought that would be on his list of enjoyable instances, but there it was. "And I have a few ideas as to what would be appropriate. I'll sleep on it."

"Teams of excited policy people and researchers have put their work into this document. It's... I'll warn you, substantial. I'm too close to the topic to handle it well, which is also why I'll be leading the proposal in its final form at the conference. It has to come from us to be accepted by us." He slouched a little, in those ridiculous shorts that Wufei was sure he had five or six pairs of. These ones were intensely blue and quite literally even more indecent than any of the others he had seen.

"You can show me everything in the morning," Wufei murmured, "I'll take care of it." He paused. "How old were you when you first...?"

His answer had an almost playful note to it. "I'm delighted that that's a question that could go two ways. We can go with _too young_ or twelve. Corsica. The Specials captured what would eventually become our base in Corsica."

There was no point in pretending that his brain didn't go precisely where Treize's had, and no point pretending that he wasn't curious about that now. "That's preposterous. Why would anyone send someone so young into battle? What were any of them thinking?" Wufei knew full well that his colony hadn't done the same; they'd tended to shelter their children as much as they could after their exile from China.

"The star of my unit from the battle of Mogadishu two years later were two ten year old pilots, Lt. Lucrezia Noin and Lt. Zechs Marquise. I was leading a squad by then." He picked up one crutch, and stood up, using his other hand to carry the empty glass, before hobbling with care to what Wufei assumed was the wet bar. "Children don't question orders, and they need structure and a family. We've been historically doing this since AC 140, after the resource wars."

Fucking hell.

Wufei had known; of course he had, it was in the textbooks. He'd been appalled at the time, but it hadn't been personal. "Right. Now I don't need to ask any questions about why you get so..." Fucked up about things. "We'll need counselors to go along with provisions for schooling and a variety of other resources." So many counselors.

"It's probably already in the document. Except I couldn't read it because it's not in _French_." He laughed the last part, and Wufei heard the sound of glass on glass. "Do you want a drink?"

"Please." Because he kind of needed one. "That will be part of the difficulty, you know. Finding bilingual psychiatric care is difficult enough, but finding someone who speaks more than two languages should be...." He shrugged. "I can only imagine that not all of the children speak Universal. It's easier if they speak to someone in their native tongue."

"I don't know what the colonies instituted, but we had a policy of teaching everyone Universal. There isn't time to find what your native language is when the control tower is giving orders on flight clearance, or when you're calling in fires. It led to mishaps, of course, but fewer than if we respected everyone's native tongue first." And he was speaking it fine; he sounded as cunning and articulate as he ever had to Wufei's ears, so that wasn't something the concussion was interacting with. 

There was a second clinking of glass on glass, and then the unsteady gait of a man who shouldn't have been using a crutch like that. "Here."

The man was dangerous, but sometimes Wufei thought he was a worse danger to himself. "Yes, and most colony born children do, but not all. That being said, emotional nuance can be difficult. It would be better for them if they could speak to someone who spoke the same languages as they do."

"Yes. It would be. And they're one ninth of the total forces, so with the policy comes stop loss for those over eighteen for a year while mechanisms are put in place to refresh the force while we also demobilize those who are interested and able." He made it back to the fainting couch, and sat down again, drink in hand. "It's a rather good gin."

"Unexpectedly so." It was usually a bit too bitter for Wufei. This one wasn't quite so bad. "A ninth of total forces overall or singularly on Earth? What's the proportion between the colonies and Earth?"

"We outnumber them six to one. It's going to have a much worse impact on the colonies, but positioned from a... humanitarian perspective..." He shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip. Those shorts should have been illegal; he had rather good looking well-muscled legs except for the strangeness of the fixator running along the outside of his left thigh, and the fluffs of gauze and wrapping around the pins. "I want to see them fight me on it."

"They won't." Wufei was sure of that. "Darlian-Peacecraft is participating, yes?" Those thighs were distracting. "She should be able to bring them around. That woman has a skill for it." He didn't sound put out, he didn't think. He'd found her annoying on occasion. Then again, he judged every woman against the yardstick of Meiran. They frequently fell short.

Sally, perhaps, fell less short than the others did, but it was a small list. "She does," Treize agreed, holding the glass in two hands, rolling his neck a little. "I realize we could have... had this conversation earlier, much less dramatically."

He couldn't help the quirk of his eyebrow. "From short experience, I think it's fair to say that you don't do anything less dramatically."

"No, but perhaps I should." He returned the look at Wufei. "Still, I did need the sleep. You look better rested as well."

"Better everything," he said without thinking, because he was definitely that, and thinking about it made his tongue trip. "You, ah. Also. Look less. Look better rested."

"You're a natural diplomat," Treize complimented, smirking slightly. "You have quite the grip. I didn't account for that."

He could feel his face flame, eyes going wide, mouth going open and when he finally managed to speak, his voice was high pitched. "I... what!?"

"What?" It wasn't even a reaction, just confusion as he took another sip. "When you grabbed my wrists. I didn't expect you to have a hold that good."

Oh. Oh, thank god. He hadn't heard or somehow seen him earlier in the afternoon. That had been his first thought, and it was ridiculous, so he placed his face in his hands and tried to hide the blush. "Presumably because I lost my grip on my sword?"

"Yes. Clearly you worked on it so it wouldn't happen again." Treize was tracking him, and he hadn't missed the blush. "Is it too strong a drink?"

"Ah... no? No. It's fine." He took another sip, the taste of it strong on his tongue. "I, ah. I didn't catch on. Long nap. It's fine."

"I won't keep you up if you want to go back to sleeping." But it was an open sort of statement. He knew that Treize enjoyed his company, that it was weirdly easy. 

Pursuable.

Actually a possibility. He was surprised to realize just how hopeful that made him feel. "I'm fine. Besides, I'm fairly certain that Trevelyan has included dessert, and I think it would be a shame to miss it."

Treize sat forward, shifted the other cover off, and smirked a little. "Ah, tarts. That's excellent. He went all out."

"He's very devoted to you," Wufei murmured. "He thinks that you know just how much. I wasn't sure if you did." It did look amazing, though. Some sort of tart with chocolate and berries and currants, and perhaps Wufei salivated just a little.

Perhaps a lot.

It was long and square, and Treize broke it apart with his fingers. "I do. We don't talk about it." The edges of his eyes crinkled with the oddest smile. "I've done what I can to show my thanks by taking care of his family."

Wufei hummed and took the piece that Treize offered him. "How large is his family?"

"Five children and a wife. And his elderly mother. They're around the corner, two blocks over. His oldest four are well out of the house and went to college."

Huh. That was interesting, and if this house was as nice as it was, he could only imagine what theirs must be like. At least there were seven people living in it instead of this strange arrangement where half of the building was used for business. He supposed it wouldn't be so strange to him if it weren't quite clearly a home. "He was immediately kind to me. I appreciated it."

"He is an immediately kind person," Treize agreed, slowly eating bites of the tart. "Even my stepfather liked him."

Treize had only mentioned him once before, and he found it disconcerting. He definitely had the sense that the man ought to be taken out and beaten before being stuffed in the elevator himself. It hadn't been hard to figure out that since Treize had stumbled out of the elevator as if a demon were chasing him, disregarding his own health entirely in doing so. "That does say a great deal for him, I think."

"Mmm. So yes, you need not worry. I try not to take him for granted. God knows he's seen worse fits of howling madness than that." The tart almost had a hint of mint to it, just a suggestion that went nicely with the berries. And sometimes sideways conversation.

Wufei huffed, despite quite enjoying the tart. "That is not the point. The person you seem to take for granted is yourself."

"I..." Same reaction every time, _every time_. "I don't understand."

"You don't seem to count the cost to yourself. Ever." He took another bite, and then sipped at his gin. It went together remarkably well. "And I would like it if you did."

"The cost of..." He was toying with a piece of tart between two fingers. "The cost of what?"

"The cost of anything." He shrugged. "The emotional toll, the physical toll." One hand waved at him. "Peace was worth it if you were the only cost. Making sure everything goes smoothly is worth it even if it makes you ill. And then you pretend that you don't."

"I don't think you can convince me that the things we're trying to achieve isn't worth a little physical discomfort," Treize noted, smiling a little at Wufei. His eye drifted to the closed album on the coffee table, and then back to his tray. "It isn't pretending, it's pushing through. And yes it's possibly very dumb. I rely on you to tell me that it's dumb."

Wufei couldn't help the way his mouth curved in return. "I can tell you when you're being stupid. But don't push through as far next time, all right?" He paused and wondered if it would be polite to ask, then decided to throw caution to the wind. "What is that?"

"Family photos. Vingt kept them squirreled into his room next door, and after I moved back in, Une tidied it up. I think she was thinking of happy families when she did it." From the tilt of his voice, it was no such thing, but he was deep in his cups enough to turn it around for Wufei and open the cover. "We all posed well."

"I'm sure you're quite photogenic. How many suites are there here?" Wufei had thought that theirs were quite large enough that it was unlikely there were more full-fledged suites, but he hadn't exactly roamed the floor to see.

"Just the two." He leaned back, rubbing a hand along the length of his bare thigh for a moment. Then he set his drink on his leg, still not finished. "I'm afraid you're in the old childhood bedrooms. And these were my mother's rooms. And Hundelt when he wasn't away." 

They were photogenic people; first there was a man who looked like Treize, down to the eyebrows, standing beside an elegant woman with a little boy standing at their feet. There were a few of those, and then suddenly there was a new man and the little boy was older and there was another one, blonder. There were photos of someone he assumed was Dorothy, and other older men he could vaguely place from intel reports, Romefeller uniforms, the two boys older, wearing tuxedos and looking like severe pre-teens. The boy with the eyebrows in uniform, hanging out of a Leo cockpit with one hand hooked inside to pull himself in, other children in uniform...

Not really happy families, no.

"Hm. I wasn't wrong. You are quite photogenic. The entire family seems to be, in fact." Wufei had very few pictures left. He'd taken the artifacts he'd been given -- priceless art and a number of important cultural objects -- and they were all carefully stored, a handful sold to help fund his attacks. It had been more than enough. "I take it that this is your mother?"

"Angelina Khushrenada," he agreed. He took another sip of his drink, and rolled the half empty glass between his hands. "She was deeply in love with my father and never recovered from his murder."

That was understandable. "Mm. My mother never remarried. She never really got over what happened then."

He watched Treize visibly falter, partially open his mouth, and then stop himself. So perhaps it was possible to train him. "No, I can't blame her for remarrying. My father was a commoner, a colonist politician to make it worse, so her father quickly arranged the more acceptable marriage he had wanted all along. My brother... was one of a kind."

"That sounds interesting. How do you mean?" It sounded like he had a great deal of affection for his brother, but there was something else to it.

"He was something else. A peacemaker like the Peacecrafts, someone who was going to change the world." Treize finished his drink in one fell swoop and set it on the table. "He ended up pulled into Romefeller leadership, and the Bartons had him shot while he was visiting our mother in hospital. I was putting down a skirmish, and missed it by about twenty minutes."

Oh. God. Was there anything in Treize's life that hadn't been completely fucking awful? At all? Reaching forward, Wufei stole his glass. "Right. You're done with the gin."

"That's unfair." There was no heat in it, but he'd probably had a glass or two and his meds after the event downstairs.

"Not at all. It'll be time for you to take your meds soon, so it's time to switch to something else. I can only imagine that you've got the means to make tea? No, stay there." Wufei stood. "Tell me where and I'll make it."

"By the door." Another foray into some unspeakable collection of drawers whose organization made no sense to him. Treize shifted, looking uncomfortable for a moment and then swung his legs up onto the fainting couch, and those shorts had ridden up unforgivably, showing a good flash of hip and dick before the man pulled the throw down over himself.

Wow.

That was...

Well. The man certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. And if it took him a bit longer than it should have to make tea, well. He needed a moment. Wufei had to walk past him to get water from the bathroom, but other than that the kettle was in working order and plugged in, and everything else he needed was there and that had been an eyeful, soft. He couldn't imagine what it would look like hard, and that was possibly something to think about later.

Perhaps even to think about a lot.

"Is there something specific that you like?" he asked, observing the different kinds of tea.

"Hmn, green tea?" Less caffeine, yes, that would do fine. There was lemon ginger tea, various breakfast teas. The cups were well cleaned but still stained despite it. Possibly the man just enjoyed drinking things.

That was the interesting part of the suites. They were comfortable and not for show. Everything downstairs seemed perfect, but here there were worn spots, clearly from familiar touch and use, imperfect tea cups, things that just seemed to be normal. It was a little startling when he realized that whatever had been treated as commonplace clearly wasn't -- that the portrait on the wall that had a corner of the frame slightly dinged was in fact a Waterhouse, that the sculpture that was placed haphazardly on a table in the corner was a Rodin. He was almost afraid to know how expensive the china he was holding might be. 

He certainly wasn't going to turn any of the empty cups over and see what they were. That was old money -- and Treize had said the house had been in the family for hundreds of years. Held onto it despite wars and clearly despite being a family of bullet magnets. Perhaps they had more than one child just because it increased the chances of someone making it to adulthood.

The kettle went off and he shifted, pouring the tea and bringing it to Treize, the tea bag on the saucer. "Here you are."

"Thank you." He was eyeing Wufei as he dipped the tea-bag, expression thoughtful. "What was your family like?"

"My mother was quite kind. Beautiful. In fact, she had quite a number of offers over the years, but she never remarried." He settled in with his own cup of tea. "I was her only child. I was in line to marry Liung Meiran, who was next in line to lead our clan. So she made sure that I had appropriate tutors and that I learned what would be needed." There were worse things to be than consort to the heir apparent, Wufei knew. "My grandparents were all on colony, of course. That did help immensely. My father's father was bitter following his death, but his mother spent much more time mourning his loss. My mother's parents were a great help to her, and loved me very much, so they spoiled me somewhat." He sipped his own tea, the lemon ginger a burst of tang on his tongue. "My mother's father was a sword maker. In the old style. My dadao was made by him." He wished he hadn't disrespected it so, leaving it on the floor of Treize's yacht.

"I kept it." It was unexpected to hear Treize say that, as he slouched dozily onto the fainting couch, cupping his teacup. "It's, I'll have it brought out of storage. It was perfectly weighted."

That made something in him catch, and he gave an unexpected hiccough. "O-of course it is. He was very good. Thank you, I was... distraught and angry when I left it behind. I regretted it immediately."

"Mmm, remind me in the morning. Left the datapad... somewhere around here." He wasn't moving to try to look for it. "It was packed up when I was put under house arrest, and I think it's in the basement." He took a small sip of his tea, watching Wufei. "It's important to have these things. It's as close as you can get to touching them again."

"Yes. Is that the reason for the photo album?" He had other things his grandfather had made, but that one was special for a number of reasons. He'd been so infuriated and overcome when he'd left it behind.

"That's why Vingt kept it; I was angrier than he was at the time. It's why I kept it after. Sometimes we take these artifacts for granted. I'm glad now that I kept the sword." Perhaps that was something he could do in his free time; find the other artifacts.

"Thank you for that. I have some other pieces that he made, stored away, of course." He'd find the more expensive things later, when he was sure of the situation. Not that he wasn't, but it was always possible that things might get more dangerous again.

The world was freshly 'stabilized', and if the world knew the people behind that stability as well as he did, well. The world would have kept the metaphorical good silver hidden a while longer, too. "Keep them stored until this all sorts out." It was a prudent remark. "After the election. I'd suggest you bring your sword to Sanc but it's a fight to keep myself armed."

Lifting his cup to his mouth, he took a sip, fingers curved around the warmth of it. "It's possible," he murmured. "I'll ask Heero. And I might need a tailor." Yes, he would definitely need one. Especially if he hoped to carry the sword, and he was sure of exactly what was needed.

Treize looked oddly pleased, watching him. "I'll get you a tailor. They might be a peaceful kingdom, but... well, they're inviting people like us in." Non-pacifists, well documented, and if everyone knew everyone else was carrying something, it tended to increase opportunity and mindfulness together. "Have you all circumvented the attempts to keep you from communicating yet?"

As if he would actually admit to it. "We’re all in different places. Perhaps worry more about that when we're all together and can plot against you." Never mind the fact that they already had. He was fairly certain everyone knew it, too, or Treize wouldn't be asking. It was more out of amusing himself than anything else.

"In a couple of months, then," Treize said, lifting that eyebrow at him artfully. He still looked like he was easing off for the evening, even if he was keeping up in conversation. "Hmnph."

"Probably," Wufei agreed, sipping from his cup again. "Will it bother you if someone makes certain... assumptions about us when we arrive? Because that will certainly change what I tell the tailor."

There was a long thoughtful silence. Treize was quick, as much as he feared that he'd been irrevocably damaged by his concussion. "I suspect those assumptions are already being made."

"I suspect they are as well; but that doesn't answer the question as to whether it will bother you," Wufei pointed out to him.

"It's politically dicy, but as you said, already being assumed. And you kissed me." He smirked a little, then, and took another sip of tea. "What did you say? It's an idea that's pursuable."

"It worked out well in other iterations ZERO had to offer." He felt tentative, as if he were proposing something he wasn't quite sure about just yet.

He wasn't sure about it himself, and there was no idea what was going on in Treize's head, at any given time. "Perhaps we could experiment with that. Carefully."

Wufei had no idea precisely what he meant by that, but he was sure to discover it. "Yes?" It was the answer he wanted to give. And why shouldn't he? He truly thought it was the only one.

"I didn't... You're right, you're technically a prisoner. I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable." Except for half the time he talked, apparently.

"Technicalities shouldn't be allowed to ruin something, I don't think." Wufei glanced at him. "But I did cause you great injury. And that might well be something that would."

He should have expected the odd chuckle he got in response. "I'm more offended that I'm having to grow a beard for the time period. Apparently I didn't need two eyes."

He did, though, and Wufei felt guilty even if it wasn't entirely his fault. "Yes. Well. I had been eying it." Because it was decidedly red, not the gingery color of his hair.

"It's terrible and patchy," he agreed, tilting his head a little. "But no, that doesn't bother me."

Hearing that was something of a relief. "Well. It should, but I'm not going to argue against it as it would be detrimental to me."

"It was a fair duel and you spared my life. The physics of a mech duel in space are challenging to model in advance." He sat up a little more. "I don't usually have to ask how to begin. This is a piss poor plan for seduction so far."

If Wufei felt a little flushed at that, well. It was only to be expected. "Seduction sounds..." Quite pleasant, actually. He might quite like being seduced.

"Harder to do when you live here," Treize smiled. The damage he'd done to Treize was probably going to be a bit of a hindrance. "Hmn, but possible. The challenge is you know what's a show and what isn't."

"If it weren't a challenge, I doubt you'd be that interested." Pointed, and the truth. Treize Khushrenada was a man who would most likely be annoyed if he became involved in anything that wasn't a challenge.

"Oh, you're a challenge no matter what." But he could maybe see the wheels in Treize's head turning and it might divert him for a few hours. And Wufei had no idea how it would actually go, but he could certainly anticipate it and be patient in the hopes that it would go well.

Still, it pleased him to know that he wasn't viewed as being easy, no matter what that might mean to someone. "I suppose we should talk about things that might be pertinent." He gave Treize a sidelong glance. "Of course, knowing quite well that there have been orgies here could certainly be viewed as intimidating."

The slight smile turned briefly wicked. "Fight hard, play hard? But those days are long past. They did have their highlights. But what would you consider pertinent?"

Wufei sipped from his cup again, head tipped downward. "Ah. Hm. Well." His mind scrambled for a moment. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I was betrothed to my wife for as long as I could remember. We married when I was eighteen and she was seventeen. After she died..." And how could he not remember that, then, the swirl of petals, the way she had wilted sitting beside him as she slowly left him behind? "I started seeing a friend, the one I mentioned before. She would have approved of him, I think.” He was soft and kind and fierce, but it was a different kind of fierce than Meiran had been. He'd loved the kindness in his heart. 

And his ass.

"Your last chosen partner." Treize held his teacup loosely in hand.

"Yes. I have photos of them. Not many, and obviously it's difficult to access without the appropriate data connections." Wufei gently put down his cup and saucer. "It's a short list."

"Mine's a very long list." Treize cut him a sideways look, still smiling, "but I've had all my shots."

Wufei would like to say that he'd not needed any shots, but... well. Meiran, Mu Tsu, and anyone who wanted to have a go while he was a prisoner. So he had, in fact, had his shots. "How remarkable. So have I."

"And since neither my first nor my last is worth discussing..." He quirked an eyebrow at Wufei. "We could try something other than talking."

He blinked, lips parted. "Like watching television?" He knew full well that wasn't what he meant, but he wanted to see what Treize would say.

"I'd like to kiss you again. See if the first time was just a fluke, that I enjoyed it so much." There was no spontaneous movement this time, because he was on the reclining couch.

Wufei licked his lips. "Should I...?" Go to him, crawl over him, and he rose, stepped closer.

"S'il te plaît." What was that, the 'you' that Treize had told him he didn't need to know because in the office it was rudely informal.

Blinking, Wufei leaned in close, one knee on the edge of the fainting couch. "Hi," he whispered, because it was the only thing that came to mind.

He felt the hand on his shoulder first, light, and then gently pulling him in closer while Treize watched him, smiling and closing in for a kiss. "Hello." Slow, careful press of mouth against his, lips slightly parted, tasting of tea and chocolate from the tart, and it was good. Good enough that he did it again, mouth soft and sweet, brushing their lips against one another just barely, and then he felt a hand on the back of his neck, drawing him in closer.

Wufei couldn't help the sound that he made, quiet and far too needy for his liking, when the tip of Treize's tongue ever so gently slipped inside, teasing him.

He shifted in closer, both knees on the couch now, hoping he didn't brush anything that hurt, but Treize goaded him closer still and the kiss turned heated. The tease of tongue knew what it was doing, deepening it to a firmer press, and oh. Oh, that was perfect, that was good. It had been a long time since he'd kissed anyone. It felt like much too long, and Treize was good at it. Good enough that he felt a shiver ripple through him, skin shivering into gooseflesh.

The hand on his shoulder and the hand on the back of his neck goaded him to relax, to ease himself down onto the reclining couch, while Treize broke the kiss slightly, a brief brush of teeth and pressure against his bottom lip and then kissing again.

That was. Oh, that was very good, and he realized that he was going loose, sprawled over Treize. Maybe that should be worrisome or embarrassing but it just felt so delicious, and he moaned again, hands slipping up to brace himself against the back of the couch, and he didn't truly realize that he'd managed to shove a knee to the other side of Treize and was sprawled over him until he was actually _there_.

And then he could feel Treize's erection right under his ass, through those obscene shorts and the throw over his hips and legs. Felt Treize tilt his head a little, and press forehead to forehead for a moment to exhale hard before he started to kiss Wufei again in earnest, one hand sliding down his back to press him closer.

He couldn't help gasping against that mouth or the way he rocked down to meet the press of that body. It had been so long, so long, and there had been so little time to have that. So little, and there were hands on his hips, stroking them, and he raised his own, got his fingers tangled in Treize's hair.

Short and soft between his fingers, unexpectedly short, a funny distraction from the palm of his hand brushing taped down bandage and Treize groaning against his mouth. "Easy, easy... we're in no hurry..."

Wufei pulled back, licked his upper lip, a little breathless. "Sorry. Sorry, it's just..." He let out a shuddery sigh. "Wow."

Treize turned his head, pressed a little against the one hand that was still in his hair, and then leaned in to kiss Wufei lightly again, softly. "It feels good."

"Yes." Yes, it did, and there was another series of soft kisses, so light that it was almost unbelievable. "Sorry," he said again, and then kissed him once more. "Got carried away."

"I don't want to move faster than you're comfortable with. We have plenty of time." They had all night; they had all week, all month.

They had at least until the elections, Wufei guessed, because Treize was counting time to them and not past them. He slid his hand slowly up under the loose fabric of the pajama shirt Wufei had put on, warm hand on bare skin sliding slowly up.

"If you want to go slow, possibly that isn't the way to do it." Wufei couldn't help smiling, because that did feel very nice.

"I have excellent self control." For teasing, perhaps but he kept his hand to stroking Wufei's side, as if looking for sensitive spots. "And I've missed real human contact." He leaned up a little to kiss him again, a light buss of mouth to mouth before he licked the edge of Wufei's bottom lip and pressed in for more.

Wufei sighed and he felt Treize breathing against him. They were both approaching a need to shave and his lips were beginning to feel chapped, but he didn't care. It was too nice, and he continued gently rocking, letting those hands wander over him. "Hmmm. I don't know if I have any."

The beard scruff would eventually stop being disconcerting or the skin would heal and he could shave again. His mouth would survive in the meantime, and Treize's dick was firm against him through too much fabric when he moved his hips just so, and got an unsteady exhalation. "Fuck. That's unfair."

"What?" If it sounded a little bleary, it was Treize's own fault for kissing him so thoroughly. "What's unfair? You're far too good at kissing. That's not fair."

"If you can't do everything as an act of foreplay, you're doing it wrong." He tipped his head, hands loose on Wufei's hips, and sucked lightly on Wufei's bottom lip. Everything was starting to feel hot and good, and maybe it was the gin.

"W-we might... ohhh." Oh, that was good. He shifted, got his mouth on Wufei's throat, and that was even better than the kisses. Mouth and teeth and tongue and sucking, the faint scrape of stubble on his neck, tracing muscles, it was all good, good enough to make him shake and squirm because it was that line between his dick aching and being a bit ticklish at the same time. "Okay okay okay." He pulled back, and he knew he was flushed and probably looked pleasure drunk. "I, ah. Wow, that is... dangerous."

Treize's cheeks were red, and his eyes were bright as he licked his bottom lip. He was breathing a little hard, excited, and Wufei could tell from the raging erection he was straddling. "Yes, but if it went downhill, I think you'd enjoy it. You feel very good."

"You make me feel very good," Wufei replied, licking at his lips. "And I hope that I'm returning the favor. You've..." He rocked his hips against that hardon. "Been teasing with those shorts."

He wasn't sure if that was true or not, but Treize inhaled slowly, and flexed his hands on Wufei's sides, the gesture slow while he closed his eye. "Oh yes... Only thing that doesn't catch on the fixator without being tailored, but I'm glad they had some effect."

"Mhm." Yes. Definitely. "They're positively indecent." And if he rubbed his inner thigh against Treize's hip, well. It wasn't as if anyone else had to know about it, was it?

He felt Treize shiver, shift to drop a hand between them just to shove the throw down from between their bodies before he put his hand firmly back up at waist level, even if it was against bare skin. "I've wanted so badly to feel you."

Wufei let out a heavy breath and swallowed. "Since, since when?" Fingers stroked up his back and Wufei couldn't help the way he ground down against him, whining a little.

Maybe that would be enough, just rubbing, pressing, and Treize leaned in to kiss his neck again, the motion lighter than it had been the first time. "Since you ran down the arm of your Gundam to try to kill me."

"Oh." Oh, that was sort of startling, because that seemed so long ago, and Wufei went still, blinking. "Really?" And wow. Wow, that kissing on his neck was enough to make him shiver.

"Yes. It was brave, and you expected your enemy to be just as honorable as you when surely you knew I'm not. But I wanted to be." He kissed under Wufei's jaw, found another sensitive spot that made him _feel_ very deeply. "It makes a man aspirational."

"I-if you keep that up...." It was going to be dangerous, because that was one of his favorite spots. "You're different than I expected. I knew who you were then, I, I knew. You were... oh, that is..."

Treize exhaled hard against his skin, like he was enjoying doing it as much as Wufei was feeling it, and he shifted his hips just a fraction, like he didn't dare to do more than that. "If I keep this up, will you come?"

"Uh-huh." Yes. Yes, he was, and there was a nip that just absolutely pushed him closer, fuck. Fuck, that was a secret weapon and Treize had just homed in on it. No wonder there had been orgies. This man might well be god's gift to sex, and every brush of his mouth, his fingers, sent rippling shivers everywhere. It was so unlike the bad things that had happened, nearly overwhelming. "Ahhh!"

Just perfect, and he was so close, dropping his hips and getting just a little more pressure of body against his, of Treize rocking up against him just enough, the rub of dick through fabric, of Treize sliding a hand close to his belly and then stopping and skimming along his back instead, and more kissing, a slight suction against his neck while he ground up against Wufei.

He gasped, nearly hiccoughing, and there it was, the bright spark of orange and white light behind his eyes, rapid fireworks, and oh, oh god. God, that was amazing, and he trembled in reaction, and that, that was so much better than doing it himself, oh, god.

So much better and he could lean into Treize and sprawl on top of him muzzily while the other man's hands seemed to shiver in their roaming, his mouth loose and relaxed as he kissed light against the spots he'd sucked or nipped. "So good, so very good, Wufei..."

"Oh." He sounded brain-muddled. Couldn't help it. "That was... wow. Wow."

"Mmmhm." He leaned his head back on the curve of the reclining couch's arm, and took a deep breath, letting his hands settle loosely just against the skin of Wufei's hips, just beneath the waistband of his pajamas and no further. "So we could do that again sometime."

"Mhm." He felt drugged. "Should get off of you. Or maybe get you off?"

"I'm all right. I like this feeling." One hand dragged up a little, pressing against Wufei's back, discouraging him from moving just yet. He was half sure the man was still hard as a rock.

"Being hard?" Wufei managed to lift his head a little.

"Having someone loose and fucked out on top of me. You feel relaxed." His eye was still closed, and his expression was so easy, blissful almost.

Wufei nodded, tucking his head under Treize's chin. "Mhm. Haven't been this loose in... forever."

"That's a travesty. I'm delighted to help you unwind whenever you want." He could feel Treize's breathing slowing, his hands roaming vaguely and purposelessly against his skin, a soft skimming touch. He had slight palm calluses that Wufei could feel, but his hands were otherwise smooth.

"Doesn't seem fair that you didn't, but if you like it, 'm okay with that." He pressed his lips against the throb of Treize's pulse and hummed in pleasure. "I would say this is moving terribly fast but...."

The press of mouth against skin for him a quiet groan, and Treize shifted his hips slightly as if that eased his erection at all. "At least when people cast aspersions at the conference, you might find it worth the trouble."

"Oh?" Wufei was fairly certain he'd be the one getting the dirty looks, especially if he got what he wanted out of the tailor. "Let them cast aspersions. It's none of their business."

"Perfectly normal part of this process." He couldn't imagine that it was of interest to any society, and yet perhaps he could. After all, Treize wasn't at all what he'd expected, and the gap between expectation and reality fascinated humans. The why and the what when things didn't make sense, like the person beneath him on the fainting couch seemed so deeply satisfied and he hadn't even gotten off.

Humming, he shifted and leaned up. "Is it a thing with you? Getting people off and then not....?"

"Sometimes. It depends on... where I am internally. Does it bother you?" He shifted a little in response, opening his eye and watching Wufei. "It's... a control that I haven't always had."

"Just curious." And starting to feel sticky. "02 always said that no one talked about their kinks on the first date except people who weren't actually kinky." Which wasn't untrue, he supposed. Wufei had never had to think about it much. Meiran had enjoyed sex, and so had Mu Tsu, and they had made up a lot of things as they went along.

The loose, easy creativity had been good with Mu Tsu; this was something different, but no less enjoyable. He could characterize it later, when he'd had more time to think about it. "Hadn't thought of it as a kink, but perhaps." And if his other partners had commented on it, he didn't share their opinions just then, which was fine by Wufei. He did lean in to kiss him again, slow and easy, and less heated than before.

"Are you hurting?" It was a good time to ask the question, be sure that things were all right. "I can get up. Probably should if I don't want to be stuck to my pajama bottoms."

"You don't have to yet. I'm not in any particular pain, and I do enjoy feeling you." The hand on his back stretched and pressed gently to goad him to sprawl back down if he wanted to. "I know it's probably strange."

"I wouldn't know. Is it?" He'd always rather liked it when Meiran sprawled over him, sweaty and still a little feisty even when she was fucked out. It was enjoyable, but usually he'd come, too. "I've always liked it, so I suppose we're strange together."

"Maybe next time, slightly less clothing. But I have to do my part and seduce you properly first." There was a lot to be said for just asking for a kiss, if that was where they'd ended up.

Wufei smiled and nuzzled against Treize's jawline. "Oh? This isn't proper seduction? It felt like it."

"You'll know when I've put the full effort on." The nuzzle got him a shiver, a sigh and an inviting lift of his chin while Treize shifted his right leg restlessly. He could get up, and take the man to bed. He could, but it was so much nicer here, sated and a little sleepy.

"Sounds intriguing." And perhaps a bit more than intriguing, to be honest. "If we plan to work in the morning..." He'd much rather not, he'd rather stay right here.

"Yes. Damn, yes." He kept his hand on Wufei's back, and started to sit up, still keeping him comfortably close. "You probably want to bathe and sleep."

Adjusting his sprawl, Wufei slowly and carefully adjusted his position. "I don't want to, but needs must." He paused and licked his lips, the rasp of them aching just a bit. "Of course, if you were to want me to stay..."

"I do." There was a sad twist to his mouth. "But I don't want to pressure you or..."

"I would very much like to." He had never been the sort to distance himself. He had always made quite careful choices, and he had always been particular in his bedmates. Wufei had seen what ZERO showed him, and some of the decisions he had made had been carefully considered for months.

Treize was working on a different timeline for those decisions but he seemed relieved and pressed a kiss against Wufei's mouth. "You can use my bathroom to clean up."

"I might need to step next door for fresh clothing." Definitely would, because his pajama bottoms were wrecked, and he'd also need his toothbrush.

"There's a pass through from the master bedroom." Treize commented it idly, as he kept one hand on Wufei's side, still lingering as they sat up.

Wufei blinked. "There's a what?" Because oh. Oh, but what if someone had stepped through and caught him touching himself? That possibly shouldn't have been so enticing a consideration.

"A passthrough between the two rooms. I should have it closed up, but by the time I occupied the house I couldn't be bothered." Treize tilted his head slightly, expression thoughtful when he added, "I'd never violate your personal space."

He could still fantasize about it, though. "It's fine, just... odd? But then, you said it was the children's suite." Wufei had thought as much when he'd roamed through it early on. "That does explain why you can see down into the ballroom, I think. So that you could be entertained watching people dancing, I should imagine."

"A long-standing tradition." Treize leaned in to kiss his neck again, and at least they were somewhat upright and headed toward moving. "No, it's odd."

"Why is that?" He carefully moved again, shifting his left thigh and managing to avoid contact with the fixator. It seemed perfectly normal in his opinion; his mother had checked on him multiple times in the night as a child, although their circumstances were, of course, not quite normal.

She had been worried that he was alive, reassuring herself that despite everything her only child was still breathing and they were relatively safe in their new home. Treize was quiet, hand still lingering on him. "We don't talk about it."

Wufei hummed, now settled in beside him. "You don't have to if you don't want to." He was curious now, though. Possibly even worried.

He wasn't sure what to do with that worry but sit still for a moment and wait. "I bear a striking resemblance to my father, and my mother inconsolably missed him. I was very glad when Hundelt had her hospitalized."

Oh. _Oh,_ and maybe he was reading too much into that, but he thought he truly wasn't. Wufei didn't say anything, just reached up and touched the other man's face, beard bristling against his fingers, and left it at that.

Treize pressed into his fingers for a long moment, apparently enjoying the touch, and then turned his head to kiss Wufei's fingers. "C'mon. I'll show you the pass through."

"I've been sincerely hoping for a secret tunnel." And perhaps that would be sufficient to distract him from whatever thoughts might be lingering.

“You would think these buildings would have more of that, but I think over the years they've been knocked out to add more bathroom space." It was a light comment, and Treize pulled away a bit to grab his crutches.

That made a weird sort of sense, actually. "What a shame. Clearly I've read too many mystery novels." Although his favorites hadn't needed secret passages. They'd had tunnels in pyramids, and Wufei would probably have time to re-read them now that he wasn't fighting a war.

In between bits of reading and editing policy in the morning, which he was mostly sure that he wasn't supposed to be doing as a POW. "Any good suggestions? Maybe I can find them as audio." Treize got to his feet carefully; he was moving better on the crutches and getting a sense of what he could and couldn't do with his leg. That was of the good, and maybe implied that he would somehow manage to care for himself.

Wufei was fairly certain that implication was a dirty lie. "Several. So where is this passage door?"

"From the master bedroom." He started forward to the door between the two, past the bathroom, and then stopped by the pillow strewn bed before what looked like a flat wall, getting the crutch under his armpit so he could push against the wall. 

And the door swung open.

It led directly into his own bedroom from a shadowy corner where the faint outlines of the door seemed like nothing more than a strange indent in the wall. No one would have noticed it if they weren't looking for it. "Huh."

"Rather ingenious." Treize stepped back, to give Wufei room. "All yours."

He felt strangely shy considering he'd just orgasmed pressed against the man. "I-I'll be right back." His tongue tripped, a funny little stutter, and his face felt warm. Their bedrooms were mirrored, so he could have heard almost anything. That was quite a lovely thought. He'd never considered something like that might be a thing for him.

It could really be a thing for him, and he had a feeling that Treize would enjoy that. Treize stepped back, watching for a moment, and then turned away from the door to his own bathroom. There were a lot of things he could find unexpectedly interesting.

Moving quickly, he gathered up the things he needed; he wasn't worried about sneaking across the hall to dress tomorrow morning, all things considered. By the time he walked next door with pajamas and toiletries in hand, he could hear water running and stepped further into the bedroom, moving toward the bathroom door, feet light across the Aubusson rug, silky under his toes.

"I ran you a bath." Treize was shirtless, and wielding a wet washcloth to wipe himself off. "I miss baths."

"That was sweet of you." So long as it wasn't a shower. For some reason, the various guards he'd had tended to prefer sexual assault in them, probably because it was easier when someone was already undressed. Wufei was fairly certain that he could deal with a bath, in any case.

Treize's erection was ebbing down, and he seemed to be okay as he ran water at the tap and cleaned his chest. "Someone should use it."

Wufei nodded, and tugged off his t-shirt. He kept quiet because he wasn't ashamed of his body but it was a little odd to undress in front of someone for the first time. It always was, and the fabric pulled from where semen had spilled over his belly. There was a certain amount of sheer nerve wracking terror, too, just because this hadn't worked out well, historically speaking.

It only took a moment to slip into the bath, and oh. That was quite nice, actually. The water was perfectly warm, slightly soapy and smooth. It smelled a little like roses, not overpowering. Treize was half watching him in the mirror, as he changed the bandage over the left side of his face.

Sighing, he sank further in, hair fanning out when his head submerged for a moment before he sat up again, wiping the water away with questing fingers, pushing his hair back so that it trailed down his back. He sighed and relaxed against the slipper tub, arms draped along the side. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." His smile seemed genuine as he wiped around the slowly healing injury with a wipe that smelled vaguely of rubbing alcohol. "Any rumors you heard of my decadence were true when it came to baths."

"It feels..." He sighed again. "And it doesn't smell too strongly." Shifting, he folded both arms on the edge of the tub and placed his chin on them. "This feels so fast, and also as if everything has taken a long time."

He watched the muscles on Treize's back flex slightly as he balanced, shifting carefully to throw out the wipes and grab the gauze. It wasn't at all how he expected being a POW to go. "Time moves slowly when things are novel."

That was quite true, he supposed. That time in captivity had been long and awful, and this was quite the opposite of that. "It doesn't seem as if it's been three weeks." And his view was honestly enjoyable.

"Good." Treize covered the injury up with practiced care, leaning his good hip against the edge of the sink. "If you need to take a step back at any time, please don't be afraid to say."

Reaching for the flannel neatly folded into a fan, Wufei dipped it into the water and reached for a small shaped soap before beginning to wash. "I won't. If you thought otherwise, you haven't been paying attention."

"I occasionally would like to take a step back from myself, so it seems unfair not to extend the offer to others." He shifted to swap the gauze around the fixator.

"How long will you have to wear that?" It was a good thing to know, he thought, scrubbing at his groin and belly.

It felt good to scrub and not have to watch his back. "Another three months or so; if it's taken well, I won't have to worry about it breaking again."

"No," Wufei agreed. "Then you'll just break the other one." And perhaps he meant that sarcastically but he also didn't. At all.

"I'm looking forward to being able to walk again without crutches." He wiped around the pins, and then dressed them quickly, too.

By the time Treize settled onto the toilet seat beside him, Wufei was mostly done with the actual washing. There was just his hair to go, and he was a little surprised when Treize reached out and cupped the back of his head. "Hm?"

"Let me help." He had an easy, relaxed expression, and reached for the shampoo with his other hand.

"All right." He shifted, turned his back so that he was closer to Treize, knees twisting to fit himself more comfortably in the tub, and tilted his head. Fingers began smoothing shampoo into his scalp, massaging, and he breathed out in pleasure.

He could get used to having an attentive lover, even if there were some quirks along the way. Was giving pleasure a kink? He supposed it might qualify as one. Anyone who enjoyed giving this much might have one. He suspected that it all went back to putting himself as the one sacrificial player on the board. He would have to do something about that.

"You hide a very sensual side quite well." Treize's fingers pressed, just the right amount of pressure, at his temples, and back further, hitting tense muscles that he hadn't felt until they were pressed.

"Wasn't a lot of use in war," Wufei murmured, and he was enjoying that far too much. He raised his hands and stroked along Treize's forearms. "You enjoy giving people pleasure. It would be hard not to enjoy it."

Treize closed his eyes briefly, smile spreading a little at the touch, before he dropped a hand into the tub to sluice some over Wufei's hair. "Something like this should count as resting."

His head tilted further back, cupped in one of Treize's hands even as the other began sluicing water through it. It was slow, water warm, and it went on and on until it was clean. "I might fall asleep if that keeps going."

"I'd say I'd carry you to bed but I don't enjoy slapstick comedy that much." He added conditioner then, and started over with the slow, easy massaging. Oh yes he was going to doze off.

By the time that Treize finished washing out the conditioner, he was barely sitting up still. It took a slight shake to get him moving, the water starting to cool, and he yawned, pushing himself up and out of the tub only to be handed one of the ridiculously plush towels. He began drying himself, ruffling his hair. "You're... unexpected," he finally said, watching Treize where he sat.

"What did you expect?" He was relaxed, and looked sated and at ease, even sitting on a toilet lid with his crutches leaned up against the wall.

"Someone harder. Someone less... you. I don't know why," Wufei finally said, wrapping the towel around his waist. "Do you have a hair dryer?"

"I..." He looked confused and thoughtful for a moment. "I do not. We'll have to fix that."

"Then you'll just have to live with my wet hair." He shrugged. He had one next door, but he was sleepy and he didn't want to bother.

Treize got up on the crutches, and started for the door. "I will. I can be harder, have been harder, but... not at home."

"Public face versus private," Wufei murmured, reaching for face lotion. "I'll be there in a minute."

He took his time, and when he came back into the bedroom, enough pillows had been evicted onto the floor that there was room for another human being in what was decidedly a large king bed. And Treize, dressed only in those stupid shorts, was dozing.

Carefully, he lifted the sheets and slid in on the opposite side of Treize's propped up leg. It felt strange and a little awkward. He hadn't slept beside anyone in a very long time, and he knew he would have to be careful not to roll over and smack into him. It made it a little hard to sleep at first, because he was in a strange room and he could hear Treize breathing. Then the man shifted and sleepily pulled him closer. Something clicked and Wufei let out a low sigh, curling closer. This was something he'd seen, if not this way, then in others. So many others, and he let himself go lax, enjoying the loose hold. It had been a long time since he'd slept beside anyone, since he was comfortable beside someone, and it was comforting.

Eyes closed, he drifted from wakefulness and into sleep so smoothly that he didn’t even notice it.

* * *

He had gone to the trouble to get Watson to fit a nicer pair of crutches for him for the conference, which was the sort of vanity his friend was glad to see again. It went better with his dress uniform, to which the tailor had needed to add velcro. 

The tailor had spent more time working on what Wufei was going to be wearing during the conference, and while it would make their arrival at Sanc something of a noted event, it was also easy on the eyes.

Wufei's tunic was less military inspired than Treize's, naturally, but it was white with dark trousers and knee boots in a style that mimicked his own. His sword was by his side, but there was a wrapped scabbard, clearly decorative as there were some sorts of embedded jewels in the side. It looked much more frivolous than functional.

It was good to be armed in Sanc; its mere existence put his nerves up and made him think of its many levelings. Coming up the stairs of the palace followed by the leading OZ delegates with Wufei right beside him and a half step behind, it felt surreal to see that it all looked like a functioning city state again, complete with a titular head. Relena Peacecraft was seated on a throne modeled after her late father's, as if they were approaching supplicants.

Still, OZ was part of a soon to be democracy, and he would not bend the knee to her. An exchange of gifts in thanks was all she could expect.

"Your Excellency," she greeted, hands primly folded in her lap. Her hair was intricately braided, tiara anchored in it firmly. He remembered that tiara; it wasn't the one she had worn before, it was her mother's favorite tiara with lovers knots made of pearl and diamond. "Welcome to Sanc Kingdom."

Pilot 01 was behind her, expressionless and watchful. His eyes skipped to Wufei and then away again.

"Your Highness, thank you for your courtesy to my delegation this week as we come to Sanc to talk peace with the other delegations. In honor of our shared faith in the work Sanc and OZ can accomplish, we bring you something that was precious to both groups."

Wufei stepped forward then, easy and smooth, and knelt before the Queen of Sanc, forearms raised to proffer the finely carved wooden box resting upon them. The wood was dark and glossy, birds flitting amidst ivy leaves and branches. His head was lowered, proffered to her mostly because he had to know that Treize would shoot first and ask questions later if someone threatened him. Presumably. Where he had learned that particular pose certainly allowed a few inappropriate questions to rifle their way up from the depths.

Stepping forward, 01 took the box and turned to stand close to Relena so that she could open it. Wufei rose as easily as he had knelt and took the appropriate single step behind Treize's right side. He understood what they were doing in a way that required little additional information, next to no guidance; only on the particularities of exact customs, not that the customs themselves existed or needed to be honored. 

Treize fixed his eyes on Relena, and watched her unfasten the latch. There was a tightness in 01, but when the lid opened to no noise, no fanfare, he smoothed.

It was Zechs's mask. He knew it was a Sanc family heirloom, had belonged to Queen Katherine when she had been a warrior to outmatch her bloodline rich and ingenuity poor husband, now returned to her daughter. And with it went her deceased brother's dress uniform and medals. He supposed if they had less history to be explained then they might have been a facsimile, but the fabric was worn faintly at the elbows because the bastard had never kept them off the table, try as Treize might.

Relena's fingers lingered for a moment, touching the red material, her eyes lowered. When she looked up, there was something strangely peaceful in it. "Thank you for returning our heirloom, Your Excellency, and for the gift of our brother's belongings. Please accept this gift from our kingdom in return."

01 brought it forward, a flat box that was plain and unassuming to better contrast whatever was inside, he imagined. Wufei took it, just because he was a bit without hands, and he managed to shift on his crutches well enough to open it.

Inside nestled in cream silk was a jeweled and etched dagger, brightly sparking beneath the lights of the throne room. Silver and pearl were the most notable, but he recognized rubies scattered in there, and a few diamonds. Wufei held it patiently as he perused it, waiting for his nod before allowing the case to shut gently.

"Thank you, Your Highness. A suitable gift to our delegation. We look forward to beginning talks this evening."

With a nod, Relena looked away from them and it would seem that was their dismissal. A gentleman came forward, quietly offering to lead them to the salon where the others would be awaiting them, and Wufei again fell in step just behind Treize, the box held securely in his arms.

They split the delegation then, with the staff being peeled off to one larger set of rooms, and himself, Wufei, and two of his colonels -- plans and intel -- being peeled off for the 'upper level' meetings. It was just the start of what he knew would be a very long day, but it was a relief to see Noin and Une when they entered.

Unsurprisingly, 04 was with them. Noin had clearly felt it best that he be a bit less flamboyant than Wufei had chosen to go and so he was quite neatly dressed in formal OZ uniform, with precisely the correct amount of gold braid and buttons but none of the insignia of rank. It was for the best.

"Wufei!" He was on them before anyone could think of doing anything, taking the box and setting it to the side and firmly taking his hands. "I hope you're doing well."

He looked a little bemused. "Quite well. So are you, it seems."

"I'm adjusting." They moved over to the side a little, the two pilots tied to OZ whether they wanted to be or not, and Treize didn't feel concerned as he inclined his head to Noin, and Une lurking in the background. His intel colonel made a line to Une.

"Your Excellency." Noin's voice was low, slightly amused. "You're looking much better.

"Not a hard bar to clear," he agreed, smiling at her. He shifted on the crutches, and patted the plans Colonel on the shoulder in a brief introduction. "Wilner here is going to start working more closely with you on the realignment."

After that, it was all discussion on what needed to be done and how close they were to the rearrangement of priorities to address all of the child soldiers used by Earth. They were joined shortly by Sally Po and pilot 03, who was also dressed in uniform, although it was the Alliance's olive drab. He shortly stepped over to Wufei and 04, inserting himself into their conversation.

Two more pilots and they would be in trouble. Dorothy and the Romefeller reps would no doubt be running late, but it was good to see Sally, even if she was casting looks over at Wufei occasionally and then giving him a bit of a look. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and leaned a hand from his crutch down to his own sword, then watched her look again and seem to relax.

Everything went quite well for a time. Tea was served, and Wufei easily moved to pour and serve, assisted by Quatre. It was quite a bit less of being a prisoner of war and quite a bit more innate training, Treize thought. Wufei made no bones about having been expected to be more or less emperor consort in his own clan, and Quatre was simply the scion of L4. Business went better, Treize thought, when someone underestimated him because he was kind and served tea instead of expecting someone else to do it. It was one way to bend the system to his will, and he didn't fault the man for it. Sally had copies of the document -- he and Wufei had gone over it sufficiently so that he knew the structure of it well enough to fake along -- and he had his speech for review, left in French because while he was sharing he hadn't gone to a level of nuance to translate it anywhere other than his head and out of his mouth.

And then Dorothy arrived with her small entourage.

Pilot 02 was dressed in severe black, although not the loose clothing Treize remembered from previous photos. It was almost indecent, and he seemed a bit disgruntled about it. His face did light up when he saw the other pilots, though. "Yo!"

Dorothy looked as much herself as ever, and he smiled slightly as he saw her; Noin moved to grab another chair for her to bring into their circle, and set a copy of the document for her as well.

Some people were born administrators.

And then behind her was Hundelt, looking out of place as a surviving Romefeller rep who'd never personally earned any of the power he tried to wield. Treize inclined his head slightly and forced a tight smile, trying to will the man to fuck off to another part of the room.

Naturally, that meant he chose the seat directly across from him.

"Hello, mon cher cousin," Dorothy greeted, seating herself beside him and crossing her legs. "How delightful that we have this opportunity to spend time together." She turned her head and glanced around. "Do fetch me a cup of tea, would you?"

It somewhat surprised him to see Pilot 02 come over to her with a cup of tea in hand. So clearly whatever agreement they had come to was holding. "It's always good to see you, Dorothy. We were just reviewing some of the policies our staffs have worked on." 

"And His Excellency's speech." Noin passed Dorothy a copy. It was a bit of a fine line of signaling he was walking with it, reiterating the need for the militaries of Earth to serve the better civil, _civilian_ good.

"How delightful. Thank you, dear," Dorothy told him, and it was less sarcastic than Treize would have expected.

"You're welcome, darling." And that was precisely as sarcastic as he had expected.

Hundelt gave an inelegant sniff. "Really, Dorothy. This is so preposterous."

"I wouldn't complain about the coattails I was riding if I were you," Treize said, giving a tight smile as he sipped his own tea, and turned his eyes back to his speech. All the same, he didn't miss the sour look his stepfather sent him, and he rather enjoyed it.

"Besides," Dorothy murmured, "it's quite enjoyable. These days, he's the only person who dares give me proper sass. You just complain that I'm supposed to be more demanding and obey all of the proper society rules."

He wasn't going to say anything at all about Wufei, but smiled because yes, there was something delightful in having someone argue with him even if it wasn't an easy discussion. Also because the first words out of his mouth would have invited comment from the old bastard. "I'm glad to hear it. We all seem to be surviving..."

"Yes," Dorothy agreed. "He hasn't even tried to assassinate me yet!"

Noin snorted in amusement. "I worry more that I'll be cared for to death. They really are quite remarkable, aren't they?"

"For playing along with unfortunate circumstances," Treize agreed. Couldn't comment on that, because Wufei had finally stopped being outwardly guilty about Treize's injuries as he had been around long enough to experience improvement.

Except for the beard. Treize didn't think it was ever going to improve.

His stepfather's mouth was pursed as he lifted his teacup. "You look appalling, by the way. I've told you before that some men aren't meant to wear beards."

Treize was a little surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder. "I have assured him the beard is more than acceptable. One must heal from one's wounds at times, and this is one of those times."

He gave an easy one handed gesture to the black cloth that was tucked up against the edges of the bandages. "This is quite the mess. I'm under doctor's orders not to shave. But thank you for your unsolicited comment. Shall we focus on work instead?"

After that, things turned a little less personal and judgmental, thank goodness. The pilots wandered back into the group, and Treize found it quite refreshing to have new faces with whom to argue. Wufei spoke less frequently than the others, but when he did, it was with a certainty and a firmness that was obviously irritating to some -- probably precisely the people he wanted to find it annoying. Even better, his perspective wasn't in disagreement with Treize's, which made things smoother. After two hours, there was a knock on the door inviting them to the social with the larger delegation prior to dinner, and of course, Relena herself.

Which for Treize was going to involve standing on one leg for an hour while he tried to drink.

The room to which they were led was, as expected, opulent, had an open bar, and mostly empty aside from the occasional tall table meant for leaning and, most likely, abandoning empty glasses. Not an unexpected fresh hell, although it would certainly be a cursed uncomfortable one. Wufei waved a hand and headed toward the open bar, probably to get something for both of them, so he moved to settle himself at one of the tables so that he could at least prop himself up for a bit.

The whole point of the damn conferences was to loiter and talk and make those deals that would be so important in the coming days when it came to whom one would vote or support when it came to a policy. He was metaphorically on his toes and simply had to be interested in the other delegates.

"Sit." That voice startled him, and he turned his head to find that Wufei had located a wingback chair that was ornately silver-gilt with a white and blue chinoiserie pattern. He couldn't have found a more obvious seat if he had tried. "What do you want to drink?"

"You're ridiculous. I was fine." But he moved to sit in it after Wufei had put its back closer to a wall. "Red wine. It's going to be a long evening."

Then he was gone again, walking through the crowd as easily as if it had parted for him, at least until he reached 02's little knot of people. At that point, 02 took a step back, and Treize was reasonably certain that he did it on purpose. Wufei hissed something at him with a grumpy expression and then made his way around to the bar.

It was going to be an awkward evening, but that passed quickly enough; he kept half an eye out for Wufei, but the OZ staff started to loiter in the area until one of the Colonels meandered close, and that seemed to break the ice.

Everyone began to scatter, and it was only a few minutes before Wufei returned with a glass of red wine and another glass that was clear but held a wedge of lime and a sprig of mint. He then promptly stationed himself to Treize's right, back to the wall, and looked out over the crowd as if he were a well trained guard, and Treize wasn't going to protest. It was about conveying a message of the Gundam pilot's integration into society and, to a lesser degree, their subservience. 

Messages didn't have to be true.

After a few moments, Dorothy approached him. "Holding court, dear cousin?" 

They weren't actually related by blood but she had always called him that. Growing up in that damn family with Catalonias was more than enough. "Quite. Would you like to join us?"

"Of course. Duo, would you mind?" One hand indicted Treize's chair, a clear request for her own.

Duo raised both eyebrows. "How about not?"

"How about yes."

He seemed to bow to it then, but clearly it wasn't all smooth and easy. Not his place to talk. "It has put a dent in my ability to corner people in the room."

"Ah, but now they must come to you," she offered, dimpling into a smile that would probably terrify most grown men. "And you even have a guard to run them off when you're done with them, what could be more delightful?"

He looked over his shoulder at Wufei, and lifted his glass of wine in a toast to him. "He's an excellent aide de camp; and 02 seems..."

Dorothy's demure smile was accompanied by a lowering of her lashes. "Quite delightful. I'm glad to have made his acquaintance." And if Wufei snorted behind him, it was just loud enough for them to hear. "Ah, and I see your guard has a similar understanding."

"The understanding that he's entirely his own person? Yes." 

"Excuse me, Miss Catalonia. Do you have a moment?" One of the Sanc officials, and he wondered where some of these people had been hiding, literally, in the interregnum years.

She made a face. "Duty calls." And by the time Duo got back, he'd probably be cursing that she'd sent him searching for a chair, at a guess.

That was fine, whoever his next visitor was could use it. "Oh for fuck's sake!" On cue, and he grinned as he sat back in his own chair. 

"If it's any consolation, she will no doubt come back." Eventually.

With a hefty sigh, Duo placed the chair and then flopped down in it. "Man, you have no idea what living with her is like," he told Wufei. "You see this getup? My nuts feel like they're in a vise."

Treize didn't have to see Wufei to know that his eyebrows had both risen sharply. "That's entirely inappropriate in this crowd."

Duo scoffed, and stepped closer to Wufei for a moment, closer to both of them. "Apparently someone's got your nuts in a vise, too." And then walked away in search of his missing mistress.

"Please remind me that it would be ill advised to strike him," Wufei sighed.

"You never want to be part of the inevitable floor show; it's better to be outside it, enjoying a drink and walking away when the sport isn't fun any more." He had personally been part of the floor show more times than he wanted to recount, but not in the last decade. He'd gotten hold of himself.

After that, it was a rotation of visitors, some of whom sat with him for a moment, some of whom didn't. Anyone would think he was enjoying himself as opposed to finding them all boring. The longer he sat with them, the more his head ached. The challenge of it was that if he retired early the rumor mill would start, and a group like that could self talk in a very vicious, effective way. Usually he used that to his advantage to spread a message; but he didn't need the message to be that he was weak, tired and that there might be something wrong with his brain.

A mere ten minutes before dinner was due to begin, Relena swept in regally, 01 by her side. She had changed her tiara and was now wearing the Sanc Diadem, which was made up of garnets and diamonds set in a fringe style. Her dress was a matching deep red, and 01's accents matched her precisely.

Most of the room turned, the way a wave came in, so it had been suitably dramatic, and he heard Rieghter to his left mutter, "Oh, this is gonna be a long one."

This had every potential to actually be _the_ floorshow, and answer 02's question of who had whose balls in a vise. And then people headed to get drinks before the open bar closed.

"Do you want something stronger before we suffer for who knows how long?" Wufei's voice was low and full of dread.

"Christ, yes. Gin would be good." He kept his answer at a smiling sort of tone as he leaned back toward Wufei. "Two hours, minimum."

"Be right back." This time no one bothered stopping him as he marched forward. Treize was fairly certain that if anyone had tried, Wufei would have barreled right through them.

He didn't dare relax back and close his eye because he might nod off, but his intel officer made an agreeing noise and headed to get his own drinks. Which had to have been the perfect opportunity, because though he tried to stare the man down while he approached, Hundelt was apparently feeling like this conference could be some kind of come up for him.

"Treize." It wasn't so much a greeting as it was something else, and it made his head hurt worse somehow.

Treize inhaled slowly, and didn't let it show as he finished his idly sipped glass of wine. "How have you been, Hundelt?"

"As well as could be expected. Quarant is doing quite well." Ah, yes. The replacement heir with Vingt dead, from the man’s second wife. "You're still in the house in Brussels, I hear." And oh, he had been irate when that had come to Treize. He'd quite liked the properties there.

"Yes. I have headquarters set up there and a few buildings around it, and it's working nicely. Gives the local economy a boost, normalizes us." He could do dull small talk until and unless the world ended. "Claude is still head butler."

That was an even more sour expression. "Yes. Well. Best he's with you, then." The way he said it made it sound dirty rather than as things were, where Claude Trevelyan had once been the only friend he had. "And your little... courtesan."

"Gundam Pilot," Treize corrected without heat. He had caught Treize in a compromising position once, caught him 'red handed', and nearly killed him; the only good of it had been that their mother had finally been put in hospital, something neither of her children had been capable of seeing done. And yet the man's outrage over it always got close, like he wanted to shout it loud in a room, and that urge needed to be deterred. "You were quiet earlier; what do you think about the proposed change to the military joining age?"

Oh, that definitely had been just the thing to say to set him off entirely. "Mollycoddling! I shouldn't expect any better of your generation, wanting to change perfectly acceptable tradition. You're all children yourselves, can't expect any better, I suppose." Never mind that none of them were under thirty except possibly 01 and 02. 

"You yourself never served. Your brother did -- General Catalonia was a true warrior and a great tactician. Perhaps I should wonder instead what he would think of it. I imagine he would favor it, as he had told many in his staff that he was still haunted by his first few battles -- the uprising in Calais, the firebombing of Entebbe to secure what we now consider a key foothold base."

"Now see here!" Hundelt began, and then Wufei slid in close to Treize and handed him a dirty martini.

"Good to see that you manage to stay out of trouble when I'm gone for five minutes."

"Thank you, Wufei." He turned his attention back to his stepfather briefly, "What I was trying to suggest is that perhaps this week you should focus on those areas where you have outstanding performance -- economic treatises. Keep the wheels of industry turning and we'll work out the kinks in keeping those wheels safe."

The man's face was turning puce in sheer apoplexy when Wufei stepped in, voice light. "Would you perhaps like His Excellency's seat? We plan to remove to the dining salon, and you appear to be quite unwell, sir."

He took a sip of the drink, and then reached for his crutches. "Yes, I always forget about your bad leg, Hundelt. You're hardly limping at all anymore, congratulations."

"Ah, there you are, uncle." Dorothy laid a hand on his forearm. "Good heavens, you do look as if you're two steps from an attack of some sort. Do come in to supper, won't you?"

Treize gave a slight nod to Dorothy, spent a moment handing his drink back to Wufei, and got comfortable on his crutches. If the man insisted on pursuing Treize, he needed to expect that all interactions would remain deeply uncomfortable for them both. "Thank you, Wufei. I believe we're sitting with Une tonight and some of Sally's people."

"Of course." As if Une hadn't held them captive on the lunar base, as if he didn't blame her for what had happened there. More things that could never be discussed in polite company, and more reason why he wanted to _find_ the room he had been given and crawl into bed to sleep. He knew they had been assigned rooms, but the trouble was going to be finding it.

One more thing to worry about after dinner.

"I think you already know most of Sally's people."

"And undoubtedly a number of Lady Une's." None of the ones who had treated them so badly during their captivity; at least those were long dead.

The tables were round and well-appointed, linen tablecloths and shining silverware, crystal glasses, warm baskets of bread waiting for them, waiters standing nearby. Wufei navigated the way between the tables, clearing a path that made it easier for Treize to walk through the people.

It was so much easier to manage, even in Brussels. Random strangers on the street were more polite than the well trained upper crust of society. He took his seat with practiced fumbling around and leaned the crutches against the back of his own chair.

Wufei slipped in beside him. "You realize someone is going to trip over them there." It didn't seem to bother him much. He just nodded to Sally and Trowa when they seated themselves across the way.

"Yes. There's nowhere to put them that doesn't end in someone tripping over them." It was close talking, comfortable, and he wanted to linger, to touch, to wish he was back somewhere private. That he was back home if nothing else, because at least there they would be back in their own habitual atmosphere and there was the door between suites if they wanted to keep things to themselves. He sincerely doubted that he would be so lucky tonight.

"I could put them in the corner, if you'd like." The fact that the offer came from Trowa felt strange.

"Could you? I'd appreciate it." He hadn't even attempted to guess how the badly named 03 and Sally had been getting on, but they both seemed... not intimate, comfortable. Then again 03 had spent most of the war undercover one way or another. It seemed like not a far stretch for him to just continue on as if it were another mission. Something for him to think on as someone pulled out the chair to his left, and he had to turn his head. Une, of course.

"Good evening, Your Excellency. It's good to see you. You're looking much better than when last we were together." She was beautiful and elegant, her formal dress subtly shimmering.

"Always good to see you, Lady." It was a soft grey-navy, the sort of color that suited her, and he wondered how integrated she was feeling just then. He didn't have a leg to stand on to comment.

She smiled and then turned toward Sally. "It's good to see you as well, Commander Po. Are you sure I can't snipe you from what's left of the Alliance for the Preventers?"

Trowa resumed his seat beside Sally, having moved Treize's crutches, and Treize tracked the motion as his intel team filtered over. Sally smiled with a little more thoughtfulness and warmth than he had expected. "General Khushrenada and I have been in talks. Perhaps if we establish something secure, we can discuss plans for after the election, Lady Une."

That seemed to perk her interest, because she gave Sally a brilliant smile. "Excellent. I'm always looking for a few good men."

Wufei's hand smacked into Treize's thigh, although his face reflected nothing of the reaction. "I'm sure," he murmured.

Treize dropped his chin slightly, and reached for his drink, which clearly needed to be finished off. "How are you finding your new headquarters?"

"They're incredibly nice," Une enthused. "The Queen has set up an entirely new facility for us, and now it's just a matter of recruiting a sufficient number of people to help." Her mouth twitched. "Honestly, I would be recruiting among everyone we knew if I thought it would help and I would be able to get that many people who I already know are well trained."

Of course she would. In her ideal world, probably one of the things Wufei had seen and passed over, Une surely had all of them joining her 'Preventers'. But the whole world wouldn't be saved by targeted special operations forces alone, and there was plenty of heavy lifting that needed to be done by more conventional military units like what the Alliance and OZ could offer, even with OZ's strike capabilities. "I'm sure you'll have some takers, Lady."

"Undoubtedly," Wufei agreed, although he seemed more interested in unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap. Across the way, green eyes narrowed and then opened again as if making a connection.

"In any case, this is mostly just to kick off a week of meetings, so we might as well enjoy it, no?" Sally gave a genial enough smile to the others, and they were joined by a couple of minor Sanc Kingdom attaches somewhere in there.

She seemed genuinely pleased to be there. Treize wasn't going to rain on her parade while the small talk started up in fits and spurts and eventually started to ease out of the familiar banquet hall awkwardness. It was all work chatter in the end, and that made it easier. He couldn't see Une, or to his left side, and while he hadn't noticed it much at home, it also spoke to how much control he had over his environment that people were almost always in front of him to the point where that missing portion of his visual field didn't seem to exist.

Except for the headache, of course.

He was unsurprised at one point to find Wufei's hand on his thigh again. He was talking to the Sanc attache on his right, which seemed a bit odd and then he realized that his palm was facing upward, the knuckles brushing against him.

He couldn't identify them all on sight without taking a moment to check the color -- white, off white, one a bit brown, something white oblong with a coating -- but caught on with a quick glance and slipped his right hand down to let Wufei drop the into his own palm, a quick exchange made easier by neither of them having sweaty palms. Now he just needed a surreptitious way to take them.

"Trowa, I... ah!" His right hand had reached out for his glass and promptly knocked it over, the white wine spreading across the linen in short order. Everyone began reaching for glasses and the bread basket, napkins being tossed across the spreading stain.

Treize threw back the handful, and rescued his own glass to take a sip that stung, but got all the medications moving the right way, even if Watson would frown at the alcohol with them. He frowned about John's gambling debts, so all was fair.

"My apologies. I'm not usually so clumsy." 

The arch of Trowa's auburn brow said none of it had escaped his attention, but that was fine. Everyone else seemed not to have noticed, he thought.

Of course he had no idea what was going on to his left, but better to go with it than waste time looking around and trying to be extra sneaky. It was white wine, so no one's clothes were in jeopardy and it settled down quickly, with the waiters coming around to top everyone's glasses up while they served the salads.

Things seemed to go smoothly enough after that; everyone settled in for dinner, and whoever had done the research for that made Treize feel a bit paranoid. They didn't even ask whether someone wanted this or that, they seemed to know. He was fairly certain he saw a couple of twitches from other people at the table, as well, but then he realized that the people around them were being asked for their choices and he wondered if perhaps they weren't because they were well-known entities. 

Well done on Relena for making a statement, right down to her catering. Clearly she didn't want to be the underestimated spoke in the wheel, but things like that were familiar to Romefeller members, so he could shake off the paranoia. It was one more thing to smooth the talks, which were increasingly leaning to that conventional and special forces balance.

Interminable speeches began with the dessert course, a honey vanilla crème brûlée, and by then Treize's meds had begun to work. His head didn't ache; his leg was unpleasant, but the fuzz of the drugs at least made it seem as though it didn't matter. He even managed to fake paying attention, so that was of the good.

His next speaking part was before the gathered assembly in the morning, and it would go well as long as he could string words together. It wasn't as if public speaking were something that had ever stymied him; there was a rush to taking a room full of people and leading them down the garden path. 

Relena was perhaps trying too hard. She seemed stiff, over practiced; she needed maybe half a drink and to do something other than fret next time, but she was young and she'd learn. It was a staged event, not an urgent thing, so the passion wasn't there. He should send her a recommended reading list. Churchill was an excellent example, and he could doubtless find half a dozen in his library alone. Yes, that was an exceptional idea, he was sure of it.

It went _on_ and he remained focused, managing to mask his relief when she was finished. There was more pleasant chatter, and at least he was tired rather than tired and in pain. There was another round of wine being served, and he placed a hand over his glass as the waiter approached.

That was sufficient to earn him a glass of water instead, and he coasted through the rest of the evening on a vaguely pleasant buzz of being just on the edge of feeling almost like a normal human being.

It was fleeting and he couldn't let himself go quite so far under for the working portion of the next day, but after a bit more socializing with Sally and Une and their staff, he was more than ready to go in search of their quarters. Some of their assistants weren't staying at the castle, of course, because it was still being renovated. The more politically important were expected to stay in the newly renovated areas, and they had guides to lead them to their suites. It was, of course, down a long and winding hallway, after three flights of spiral stairs, and he hated everyone quite specifically as they finally reached the door, and it was unlocked for them, before the guide handed Wufei the key.

He thanked the porter and Treize crutched his way inside, more than ready to sit down and not be muddling along with crutches. It was well appointed, large, and their luggage was placed beside one of the doors. He heard Wufei sigh with relief when the door shut behind them, lock clicking into place with a few hand motions. "Finally."

"Thank fucking god, I can't feel my hands." Treize nearly fell into the first decent looking chair in the well appointed study, relieved to let go of the crutches.

"Sit there, I'll sort things out." Wufei sounded tired, although he didn't look it. "I missed absolutely none of this part of things. I would prefer to go destroy something." By far, given his choice, Treize didn't doubt that.

"Four days to go. Three and a half if you count that most of the delegates will disappear magically after lunch Friday." Treize closed his eye, and cracked his neck with care before he started to undo his cravat.

Wufei began opening doors, checking to see where everything went. His voice was a little odd when it came. "There's only one bed." Treize couldn't tell if he sounded amused or appalled. "Well."

"I did say I have a terrible reputation." He hadn't wanted to taint Wufei with it, but it was a different story if Wufei were so completely willing to taint himself with it.

Waving one hand, Wufei reached up with the other to begin unbuttoning his brocade jacket, huffing a sigh of relief when he got it undone. "I wouldn't worry about it. I gave the purposeful impression and I can live with the results. It isn't as if I didn't plan on sleeping in your bed anyway."

He was glad to be watching Wufei for that, feeling himself relax a little. He started on his own jacket, knowing he'd have to get out of the chair to do the rest, but not eager to move yet. "Today wasn't too much for you?"

"Hm? Oh. No, this is easy. Just boring." Once the jacket was off, Wufei stretched, back popping. "I had thought once I was a widower, I wouldn't have to deal with these sorts of things." Especially once he'd become a Gundam pilot, Treize would guess.

"You're a natural." He'd looked good all evening, and if Treize had let his gaze linger a little, well. He was simply upholding his reputation of being terribly interested in carnal relations. In a polite, socially acceptable way. "Dorothy added an extra hour to the overview of the election structure tomorrow."

"Of course she did." Voice dry, he moved back to one of the other doors and opened it again, pulling out wooden hangers and walking back to Treize, handing him one as he began to strip off the rest of his clothing with little care that he was being watched.

The heavy uniform jacket and cravat went on it dutifully, and he started to unbutton the high collared shirt, watching Wufei. So far things had been... careful was perhaps the word. He had been giving Wufei wide boundaries, not encroaching, trying to communicate before frustration surged into misdirected anything else. This was clearly being done for show.

"Do you need help?" Wufei stretched again, and his back popped one more time. "Ugh."

"How tense were you holding yourself?" He stopped and stretched his own arms, because his hands did still hurt. "Everything feels slow."

"Too tensely. Here, let me." Reaching out, Wufei caught the last button that hadn't been freed and slipped it from its cloth prison, taking the shirt and pushing it open.

The skimming touch of fingertips that went with it was a relief, because not everything was muzzy. "You were exquisite all day."

"I know." It was ridiculous, accompanied by a lopsided smirk. "I was taught well how one behaves as... for lack of a better phrase, emperor consort." Ah, yes. The power behind the throne, if the throne felt so inclined.

He turned his fingers over, sliding a touch over Wufei's wrist, light while he held his eyes. "It's an important role. One can't do it alone very well."

"No doubt." His lashes lowered, a black fringe, and those impossibly dark eyes looked at him from beneath them. "There are many things that aren't as nice when alone."

He needed to get up from the chair but it was easier to pull a little, tug Wufei down for a kiss because he could. Because he was tired and Wufei was tired. "Like this."

"Mmmhm." Yes. Very much yes, and he was surprised when Wufei straddled his lap, careful of his leg, and deepened the kiss. It was a funny thing to walk the line between perception and reality when that line crossed over all sorts of other issues and pitfalls. He let his hand linger down the bare line of Wufei's back, and tipped his head up, lips parting.

There was a knock on the door. "Your Excellency? Do you have a moment?"

Sighing, Wufei dropped his head to Treize's shoulder. "I'll be in the other room." Waiting or sleeping, Treize supposed.

"No, wait," he murmured, pressing his cheek against Wufei's jaw for a moment. Then louder, "Who is it?"

"Queen Relena."

Dammit. Just... dammit.

"I'll be in the bedroom," Wufei said again, and kissed him one last time before rising and taking the clothing he had discarded with him, shutting the door behind him.

He waited half a beat and then called out, "Come in!" because she had the keys of course. Never mind that he was half dressed, and started to partially button up his shirt.

The door opened partially before the latch caught it. "Oh."

"You'll have to give me a moment. I forgot I set that." He got his crutches under him after a minute, and made his way to close the door partially and loosen the latch.

"I apologize for coming so late. It's always difficult to talk to someone with all of the ceremonial necessities." It was an apology but not for the appropriate thing.

He backed up, shirt hanging loose as he gestured for her to come in. "What can I do for you, Queen Relena?"

She moved in, graceful, her skirts sweeping. "Are you comfortable here? It was difficult to find space for everyone, I'm afraid." Which addressed absolutely nothing at all.

"Yes, this is quite fine." He had barely seen anything but the door and the chair. He stayed standing on his crutches, watching her in her finery, looking restless.

With a sigh, she seated herself, leaning down and pulling off her heels. "I did just want to check in with you. Our power balance feels... iffy for me. And you have significantly more experience than me."

"OZ and the Alliance troops will support ESUN; in a year or two, we'll rename, fold entirely under the new government." He leaned against a nearby wall, steadying his back. "I could have taken all control; we didn't need to have elections. That's what's bothering you."

When she leaned back against the canapé à confidante, he almost groaned because she was settling in far more than he would like. "Yes. That is precisely what's bothering me. Why didn't you?"

"Because it didn't suit me to." It was both a simple and complicated answer, and he knew it was a challenge for her to hear. "I would like for the world to be stable to a point where I can step away, and the system will remain standing. I don't know what I'll do, and it's two or three years away, but I am unwilling to do this forever."

The way she smiled was astonishing -- it was sweet, and it held a gentleness that Treize wasn't sure he would have believed if he hadn't seen it. "It is exhausting, isn't it?"

"I think that's why half of Romefeller went the way of Nero. Work hard, play harder. The harder it is to keep the world going, the more you see things peeling off of the plan..." He shook his head. "Together, we build a structure that can endure and survive leadership changes."

For a long moment, Relena just looked at him. "And how did my brother feel about any of this?" She seemed honestly curious.

"He wanted to rebuild Sanc. Somehow, when it was all over. He believed in what OZ was trying to accomplish, but there were too many conflicts between loyalty to me and murdering the people who had destroyed this place. Trying to carve his own way in the world." And he personally had simply done what the murderers had wanted him to do, been their weapon for too long before he'd overthrown them, too, but it was easier not to think about it.

Besides, he could see in her face that she read through it. "Well. It's good that I'll be able to do what he wanted, then." When he was sane, in any case. "Thank you for being so frank." She rose, then, slipping her feet back into her heels. "I'm sure you're more than ready to see the back of me, and I'd imagine Heero is starting to get antsy, having lost sight of me." There was a knock on the door. "That would be him, I expect. Have a good evening, Your Excellency."

"Thank you, Queen Relena. Have a good evening." In his speech in the morning, he would have to stress the change in civil-military relations more than before.

She hadn't been wrong; it was 01 at the door, looking disgruntled, but she offered her hand to him and they left easily enough. Treize was relieved to re-secure the door. He'd imagine that Wufei was probably asleep already. Damn.

It wasn't such a terrible outcome. He turned off the light behind him, clicking carefully along on his crutches. There was a light on in the bedroom, so perhaps he was reading. Or perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps he was sprawled across the sheets naked, hair loose, chin in his hand. "Hello."

Treize stopped short of the bed, and smiled, let himself enjoy the view. He at least had that for a few more months, until he managed to get Wufei and the other pilots removed from their prisoner situations. "Hello. I didn't waste an opportunity, did I?"

Wufei paused, clearly pretending to consider whether he had or not. "I don't think so," he finally replied. "I might have fallen asleep if you had lingered longer, though."

"We could take this place here and now." And he couldn't easily read anything but French, and he wasn't sure what that said about any of them. About ESUN. He crutched in closer, sat on the edge of the bed, and traced a hand down from the nape of Wufei's neck, down to the small of his back. "I'm so tired, and you're so beautiful."

"Exhausted," Wufei agreed, and took his other hand, turning it palm up and kissing the center of it. "But even so." Yes, even so, and he twisted, leaned up in search of Treize's mouth. That was a familiar motion, and Treize leaned down, catching Wufei's mouth with his.

He needed to take off his pants and his boots, but he needed the contact more, the way Wufei brought heat to him with a kiss. His head was spinning with half thoughts and they focused instead on the feeling, tongue slipping hot and smooth into his mouth and stroking his own before pulling back again when Wufei did, gaze heated, fingers slipping between Treize's own. "Get undressed?"

"Eventually," he said, shifting to move his free hand to undo the damn Velcro. The fastenings on the back of his boots were easy, familiar; and he had an urge to abandon it all on the floor and just enjoy bare skin on bare skin.

"You have extras. Leave it. I'll find out who handles the dry cleaning later." Much later, he hoped.

It wasn't as if the floor were that dirty; he left them there once he got himself unentangled from the fixator, and sprawled out with Wufei, pulling him close for a kiss. "Much better." Most everything they'd done so far had involved some layer of clothing.

With care, Wufei moved over him, sprawling out again. Treize was beginning to think that this must be his favorite position, because he looked down at him, gaze lingering. "I'm always surprised at just how well endowed you are." It didn't seem to make him feel inferior in the least. He just reached between them and gently stroked him.

It was the perfect way to end the day. His breath caught and he exhaled, enjoying the slide of Wufei's fingers along the length of his dick, before his brain re-engaged, and he moved his fingers down to cup Wufei's ass. "It comes with its downsides."

"Hmmm, I'm sure." Quite certain, but it didn't seem to bother him, and he leaned down, one hand braced at Treize's side, the other one reaching up to quest beneath the pillow. What he pulled out was lotion, and he sat up again, flicking open the lotion and squeezing the bottle.

He didn't know whether to be delighted or offended that Relena provided one bed and lotion. "Of course, with time and care it can be a very enjoyable upside." He moved his left hand to slide along Wufei's length, thumb brushing just firmly enough to make Wufei's hips press against his touch.

Wufei reached down, took Treize's cock in his hand, slicking lotion over the shaft, fingers looped loosely around it. "Mhm. Everything can be enjoyable with time and care." He paused. "But I'm never going to want to have shower sex again."

He wished he didn't have a creative mind, because he could see it in his mind's eye, Wufei pinned under hot water with some guard rutting into him, a haze of satisfaction at having made sure they were appropriately punished. "I never particularly want to go back to Luxembourg. And baths are so much better." Once he got the pins out of his leg. 

He didn't thrust up against Wufei's fingers, but he took a controlled breath and moved his free hand to steal a little lotion to return the favor. 

"Good to know that we're in agreement, then." A shuddering sigh followed that, and then Wufei leaned down to kiss him again, that tongue determined to drive him crazy.

He wanted to make Wufei enjoy it just as much, wanted to feel Wufei twisting and grinding against him, while he stroked his dick in a slow, lazy pattern, just a little fast and then a little slow to keep him wanting, feeling, because his mouth was occupied with kissing, a feeling that made his dick ache worse than Wufei's lazy stroking by itself.

"How did we even get here?" The question was halfway asked, halfway mused, and then Wufei let out a breath that was pure enjoyment. "God, yes."

"You found it pursuable." He didn't know where anything was going or how he would fix things or if there was even a long term, if it was _plausible_ , to be alliterative, but he curved one hand over Wufei's ass, and gave him another firm stroke.

He was a little surprised when Wufei settled down atop him, sprawled and began to rock his hips, their cocks sliding together. "Fuuuck."

Change of tactics, and he moved his other hand to help give them both traction. Having Wufei's full weight on him was perfect, the grind was perfect, and he thrust up against him slow and deliberate, mostly using his good leg. The damp of his breath huffed out against Treize's throat when he tucked his face into it, legs clamping around Treize's hips for a moment while he rocked, then loosening.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck, that's so good, I like this, I want, I... oh, god, please, yes."

He exhaled, straining, begging a little because it felt good and he was close and the clamp was so good, perfect, and he gripped tighter to Wufei's ass and pulled him in closer while he tried to get enough heel traction with one foot to just come, and Wufei wasn't far behind him, crying out against Treize's throat, trembling above him.

Could not have asked for better. He exhaled, shivering for a moment at the perfection of it, and let his hands go loose on Wufei's back to hold him closer. "So very good to me."

The hum of pleasure was undeniable. "I like this timeline."

It was such an absurd thought, he couldn't help the laugh that escaped. ZERO had shown him nothing, that he was at an end, but he was alive and... He was alive, and turned his head, lifting an unsteady hand to stroke through Wufei's hair. "Yes. This isn't bad."

That earned him a firmer press of his body as Wufei relaxed into something like a puddle. "Hm. I like that. Keep doing that."

He closed his right eye, and nodded a little to himself. "Gladly." Eventually they'd have to get up, but he was muzzy on his drugs and Wufei's scalp no doubt ached as much as his own head had, and they had to get up in the morning again.

And face another day.

* * *

The colonial delegates had arrived that evening while the dining and socializing had been going on and they were in an uproar after Treize's speech. His proposal had not only impacted the potential members of the ESUN military, but it fiercely cut the numbers to which the colonies had access at a proportionally greater impact. The rep from L3 had interrupted, and Treize had asked him by what right under God he demanded to fill his ranks with _children_ simply to have greater numbers than L4.

For all that Treize seemed afraid that the concussion and electricity had taken something from his mind, he didn't miss a beat in the heat of an argument, and had managed to stir most of the audience to the point that Dekim Barton was shouted down. Treize had needed to gently quiet their own supporters.

It was no wonder Relena was afraid of the control he could exert, even if up close, to Wufei’s perception, he seemed to be strung together with gritted teeth, willpower, and stress.

By the time they broke out into smaller meetings, Wufei was still one step behind him on his right side and followed him down the hallway without any visible expression. "Well," he murmured. "That could have gone better. And possibly worse."

"As well as could have been expected. There's history." He was moving at a good clip, probably spurred on by the half a pot of coffee he'd drank at breakfast. "Despite that, we must work with him."

"Hm." He'd figure out what sort of history in short order. "Do you need anything before the first meeting?"

"No, this shouldn't go more than an hour after this morning's show, and then we're at a break." Giving the speech had clearly given Treize a jolt of.... something. Adrenaline, excitement. Purpose. That would probably go out of him once he suffered through the first of the meetings. Wufei thought he was already dreading it, mostly because he'd seen at least one of the colony representatives taking frantic notes the entire time and he could already guess how that would end.

Unpleasantly being the answer.

"Shouldn't," Wufei agreed, "but I expect it will be."

"The breaks are one of the few things respected." Because ultimately it was more work to be done, more socializing. Treize headed for his designated seat at the table, and Wufei had his datapad ready. He was starting to wish he'd brought a small bag in which to carry the datapads and perhaps uppers.

Wufei took Treize's crutches and set them in the corner of the room, chose a couple of sealed bottles at random, brought them to the table, and then began sorting through the items he'd been carrying. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Treize gave it a moment's thought, and gestured him close enough to whisper, "The folder the files are being stored in for projection are on the main server." Which he'd been through extensively, he didn't say or need to. "If someone adds a new file, could you throw it into French for me?"

"Hm. Yes. I'll take care of it." Thank god for translation apps. It might come out bizarrely, but it would still be better than him trying to read something in another language. It made Treize's head throb, even if he didn't like to admit it.

"Thank you." There was enough cause for headache at the meeting without Treize staring blankly at something in Universal. Treize settled into his chair and began to review his own notes with a particular posture to him that politely discouraged small talk.

This meeting was mostly with colony representatives and Noin as they worked to out process the soldiers who were under eighteen. L2 had a significant number, so he expected arguments from them. L1 and L4 were a bit lighter in the load, and L3 had the most, so it wasn't going to be fun regardless.

It hadn't been a hard and fast declaration -- that there would be a review process put into place and soldiers who were already in and over the age of fifteen would be given a choice. It just needed to be assured it wasn't a coercive choice because by then the damage was well done, Wufei supposed.

The room filled slowly, people roaming about, speaking to one another, picking up their own bottled drinks. It was always best to serve things that were unopened, particularly if someone might be paranoid enough to worry whether they were being poisoned or not, and Wufei had a feeling that Dekim Barton was precisely that paranoid. Then again, if he were Barton he'd probably worry that someone was bound to try it just because he was annoying.

Treize spoke up when the time chimed softly in the room, bringing up the room to some semblance of order. "The agenda my staff gave me unfortunately includes a line by line review of the oversight proposals. Before we begin the line by line review that Wilhelmsen has so graciously volunteered us all for, let's open the floor to protests and input."

The representative from L1 was on his feet faster than Dekim could manage. "The proposals are unacceptable. You'd fully diminish a quarter of our resources if you pulled that many soldiers due to their age."

Treize let that statement stand for a moment, while he opened his water bottle. "You have fifty thousand soldiers under the age of eighteen. The proposal explicitly includes a provision for soldiers fifteen and up making a choice to complete their term of service. You can't be telling me you have fifty thousand soldiers below the age of fourteen. This is going to be painful for all of us, yes, but it's about expanding human rights both on Earth and the colonies."

"Anyway, buddy, how about you don't complain?" Well. The rep from L2 who'd been frantically taking notes earlier stood up. "I'm Stiles Stilinski, by the way, and I know I wasn't the one expected, but Gerard Argent unfortunately caught the plague and a slight case of dying, so! Look, y'all know what we've got going on L2, and you know it's kind of a shithole sometimes, but it's our shithole, and look. We not only have bucketloads of kids acting as soldiers, we've got plague running out of our asses and kids dying there, too. So how about we go with not killing kids and not letting them kill other people, because I've got to tell you, that is my vote. I am at least ninety-three percent certain that not having child soldiers isn't going to kill us any faster than the lack of vaccines, and let's be honest. No twelve year old should be out killing people, it's traumatic. Hell, your attache looks like he's not much older than that and even I can see the trauma on his face."

Wufei shifted his gaze to the young man beside Brad Crawford. He didn't look traumatized exactly, just blank. Very, carefully blank. "My attaché is fifteen." 

Treize let that moment hold for a beat because it spoke volumes as well. "Thank you, Mr. Stilinski. We all know this is an emotionally charged topic because so many of us came up through this system ourselves. I ask that you set aside your pride in your own accomplishments before speaking. L3, Mr. Barton. Your stance."

"My eight year old granddaughter is already leading troops. My stance is clear, I think." Wufei wasn't imagining it; the man was smirking at Treize almost as if he had some kind of secret there. It made him grit his teeth.

"Which is why you shouldn't be allowed to have grandkids," Stilinski muttered.

"She won't be waived during the disarmament process L3 will be subject to, I'm afraid. Perhaps you will be able to focus on having her attend school instead." Whatever the smirk and the secret was about, Treize didn't react. "L4. Irina Winner, your stance."

"L4 is well known for our general stance on child soldiers. Recruitment already begins at fifteen with us, but we'll be changing that to twenty when the regulations take place." Her fingers moved over her datapad. "It's a reduction in forces, of course, but we feel it's significantly better in the long run."

"Thank you." No rep from L5, no L5 colony cluster left, and Treize turned slightly, a glance and acknowledgement of Wufei with an inclination of his head before he turned to Wilhelmsen. "Colonel Wilhelmsen will begin the line by line review of the procedures you _will_ be submitting to. This make it vitally important that if you have input or protests for these procedures, we need to discuss it now, and vote if need be."

"You'd rather force us to comply than try reasoning?" Crawford leaned forward. "That doesn't seem to bode well."

"Now is the time to modify the procedures of enforcement and make modifications to the regulations," Treize reiterated. "I have your signature on the terms of surrender, Mr. Crawford. If you wish to imply that a series of meetings devoted to debating and refinement of this concept is 'force', I will remind you that the colonies technically have no rights to the standing armies about which we're negotiating."

"Technicalities and actualities are quite different, Your Excellency." He pushed his glasses further up his nose, mouth curling in something like a smile. "Call it argument for the sake of argument, if you like."

"Then we will start with page five, which describes the non-partisan inspection procedures so we can better parse technicality from actuality." Wilhelmsen brought up the document, projected onto the wall in a huge font that wasn't going to make it any less painful.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

Wufei had been right and the whole thing had unravelled into a complete slog of a morning; he'd warned Dorothy what was afoot, as the delegation (except for L4) was fighting every goddamned line, comma, and period of the document, each in their own unique way. L2 agreed with the concept but was a pedant who clearly believed he was an excellent writer when no one else in the room cared as long as the concept survived.

His head was killing him. As they seated themselves for lunch, it was an internal struggle to remain the ringleader for this godforsaken three ring circus.

"At least we'll have a few moments of downtime," Wufei murmured, and was promptly proven wrong when Stilinski sat down with them.

"So." Treize was beginning to wonder when he breathed because he never stopped talking. "I totally hate to do this but are they serious? Like. How can they be serious?" He looked a little irate or perhaps it was just confusion. "I mean, if we're _all_ downscaling, how does that even do the thing? I mean, okay, I get it, they've got more kids shooting people, great, but it's not proportionally more or less detrimental, you know?"

"Yes. We all need to move off of a war footing." L2 had never been good at having a war footing, given how Earth and their neighboring colonies had treated them, so it wasn't a hard stance for them to take. He sipped at his coffee, and contemplated the rather terrible pasta salad that Wufei was too polite to give the dirty looks it deserved.

Stilinski nodded. "Right, exactly! So obviously I'm incredibly new to this, I'm going to have to apologize for a lot of stuff because I know literally nothing, and it's not like Gerard left any notes. And even if he did, he was kind of weird and would probably have agreed more with that old fart than is good for basically anyone ever." Presumably that meant Barton. "And I realize this isn't your purview, but I need to bargain with somebody for, like. Vaccines and better medical care and shit. Because kids fighting is way lower on my priority list than kids dying. And, well, adults. We've had a new wave of plague -- don't worry, I was in isolation for like three weeks and I hate everyone right now because holy god that was boring -- and so we've got a little swing with the anti-vaccination brigade, I'd like to exploit it as hard and fast as we can. And if I can swing in some requirements for vaccinations under healthcare provisions for kids being mustered out, well, I'm all for that."

Wufei was blinking beside him, so obviously he wondered when Stilinski breathed, too. "That would be Sally Po, I think?" The question was directed more to Treize than anything else.

"Commander Po will be at your disposal." Treize made sure the L2 rep was paying attention, and pointed to Sally. "Alliance uniform, right there. You might as well go talk to her now, we're all in the position to move fast on these requests."

He seemed to consider it. "I've got a meeting with her right after this, actually, so maybe after lunch." Shoving a fork into the pasta salad, he put it in his mouth. "Oh, god, that's a travesty." 

Treize reached for the basket of rolls in the middle of the table and offered it to Wufei first before taking one for himself. "Indeed it is. Sanc was never known for their pasta."

"Well I hope to god they're known for their desserts because we totally deserve it after this."

He could sense Wufei's amusement at that statement, even if his face didn't change. "Last night's was enjoyable enough." And it was food, which was sufficient. Just dull, and the mild outrage from the L2 rep was sort of amusing, even as he saw Dekim Barton coming toward him.

It was a shame Dekim hadn't been on that airplane of 'peaceful generals' that he'd wiped out so early in OZ's overthrow of the Alliance. "Representative Barton. Please, sit down."

"Ah, I won't bother you, my boy. You seem to have your hands full already." That glance at Wufei was sly. It turned smarmy when it flicked to Stilinski.

The heavy implication wasn't missed, but he smiled at the man instead. "I insist. We haven't spoken since the last detente with L3 in 189."

The old man looked down at him, the smirk clear. "If you're sure I won't be interrupting anything."

"You aren't." Wufei's voice was flat, and his expression was unreadable, which meant that he didn't like the man. At least he had good taste and good sense.

Stilinski shrugged. "I'm accustomed to cranky. No skin off my nose."

The best reaction was no reaction at all, just to let the remarks slide away as he always had, because yes, he had a vigorous sex life with good looking men and occasionally women when he was feeling off keel. "Not at all. It felt like there was more you wanted to say during this morning's session. I hope that you feel able to share that with a smaller group."

He sat down, careful as if he were infirm somehow, which Treize doubted. He suspected he was trying to project a certain image. It was possible he would be successful with someone else, but he doubted it. Everyone suspected Dekim of almost everything, because that was the sort of paranoia that kept a person alive. "Oh, you know I agree with Representative Crawford. I disapprove of your plans, naturally."

Unthreatening elderly statesman, that was what he was trying to project. Treize took a bite of the dull pasta salad. "Eight is a bit young to be leading troops even by Romefeller standards."

"Ah, but she's a brilliant and fearless tactician. Excellent bloodlines, as well." That hinted at something. Treize wasn't sure what. "And at that age, it's so much easier to be ruthless."

"Yeah, because you don't know how much killing someone will fuck you up until you've done it." Stiles paused, eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you've managed to raise a total sociopath on purpose."

"I didn't think your son married. I'm curious what bloodlines." It was a strange topic, but something Romefeller had always been too interested in.

"The child belonged to my daughter." Something about that sent a chill down his spine. Perhaps it was just the fact that he'd used the past tense. "Her father, of course, has made no claim to her." The gleam in his eyes made his hand tense on his silverware.

Wufei reached for his glass. "Perhaps he should."

"Does he even know?" That was rather a shame, leaving a young child in Dekim Barton's care. He hadn't known the man had a daugh...

Oh fuck. Fuck, and he _looked_ at Dekim, heart racing a little while he tried not to let himself think back to blonde hair and a pretty blue apron, his back on fire and a little desperate for something that didn't hurt. "Leia Barton." Oh fuck, it was a common last name, like Smith.

"Ahh, so you do remember." He looked so pleased with himself.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

There were so many thoughts crowding into his mind all at once, the when, the timeline, the years that had passed, a one night stand really, three at the most, and he had her leading troops. His own blood, already folded back into -- that was insane. There were no wars to be fought, it was _over_. "I did not know. Now that you've so graciously informed me, I will have to rectify that."

"Hoooly shit. I did not see that coming." Neither had he.

Oh, god, neither had he.

And Dekim was smiling at him. "All things to be dealt with later. I'm sure you require paternity tests, and L3 has laws of their own that must be abided by, as I have been raising her as my own since her mother died."

Wufei snorted. "L3 certainly has laws of their own, but the colonies lost, which is how we ended up in custody. Perhaps you should consider that."

"Perhaps it's a passing transition, and the colonies will be on top again soon," the man responded back quickly and with eyes on Wufei as if he thought he might be an ally.

Treize couldn't even promise that he wasn't. He didn't think so, but he couldn't guarantee anything, either. "Nothing will bring back my people. My family. Not promises from any side."

"I'll be in contact." It was the only thing he could think to say, because he would have to follow up. He couldn't let it sit there as unused information, unacted upon.

Barton just laughed, his eyes sharp with amusement. "Doubtlessly true." God. He had stopped just to drop that bombshell on him. Treize hated him with a true seething dislike. "Well, I see Representative Crawford. I believe I'll go and speak with him."

"Of course." He smiled tightly at the man, sitting back in his own chair. Fuck. Fuck. Barton was spiteful enough to do it, every bit of it, and that was insane. 

He didn't know what to do next.

"Take a deep breath," Wufei told him. "I could probably stab him if you'd like but I don't think it would end well."

"Whoa, whoa, we're at stabbing?" Stilinski's eyes were wide.

"No, no, we're not at stabbing," Treize said very firmly. He did take a slow deep breath through his nose, and exhaled it slowly. "I didn't know."

Wufei shrugged. "Well. If you change your mind."

With a hefty huff of breath, Stiles sat back, one arm over the chair back. "I'm starting to understand why Gerard was such an asshole."

"Enough years of it and you'll become one out of self defense, yes." Gerard, he remembered; the man had been meticulous and paranoid. He just needed to sit there for a moment and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do. He had a daughter who was being used as a soldier.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

He couldn't handle a daughter, he couldn't raise one, but he also couldn't leave her with Dekim Barton. It was a bizarre spiral of panic that he had never once considered he might have to deal with and... fuck.

_Fuck._

Wufei's hand on his thigh pulled him up, and he saw the way Stilinski was watching them.

Dekim had only shared the information with him to throw him off and he had achieved a heavy blow with hours of negotiation to follow. "That's a hell of a way to find out you're a father," Treize quipped, trying to dismiss the spiral by just ignoring it.

"Dude, that was just. Twisted? Twisted. I'm with this guy." Stiles pointed at Wufei. "Maybe somebody should, y'know." He made a weird gesture and a noise that was even weirder.

It seemed to imply killing. Treize closed his eyes for a moment. "You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Stilinski, I have some messages to send before the next round of meetings start." He twisted a little to grab his crutches. He needed time to get his head together.

A daughter. A child at all. There was no way.

"I'm sorry to abandon you, but Commander Po is just over there if you'd like to discuss the vaccine issue with her." Wufei stood with him, beginning to gather their things with swift, smooth motions.

"Hey, no, I'm good, you go... do your thing."

Hopefully it looked more like he needed to urgently send correspondence, than that he needed to urgently find someplace to scream into his fist, because holy hell there was no way. It was impossible.

There was no way.

Except there was. There was, he vaguely remembered it, he'd been so thoroughly drugged at the time that everything was quite fuzzy. He had probably been far too fucked up to take his usual precautions, at a guess.

He'd always been desperate for human contact when he was in pain, stupid about things in ways he wasn't otherwise. He got onto his crutches and started out of the dining hall, focused and trying to figure out where to go. There was just nowhere to go.

There was _nowhere to go_.

He was going to panic, he was going to lose his shit and everyone would see it. Everyone, and....

"Here. Come _here_."

Wufei pulled open a door, and it looked like a storage closet, and that was as close as they were going to get to privacy, so he crutched his way into that space with Wufei, finally letting his grip slide a little.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

It was black as pitch, and they fumbled against something that was maybe a cleaning cart. It didn't matter, didn't at all, and he dropped his crutches, wobbling before Wufei got hold of him. "Hey, hey. I've got you." 

"Fuck!" He hissed it into Wufei's shoulder, desperate and panicking and fuck fuck fuck, no, he couldn't, he couldn't take care of, no. He'd done his best with Vingt and that was, that was all he could give.

"Take a deep breath. Hey. Hey." He felt a hand on the back of his neck, tight. "Breathe in for four seconds for me. Can you do that? Four seconds, that's all."

"Fuck..." He inhaled, gave up, tried again on a count of four, and then exhaled. And then inhaled again. It was completely irrational, completely, and there was no way to explain it.

"That. That is much better. Can you breathe with me now? In four, then hold it for seven. Then out for eight." Those hands were on him, petting, stroking. "I've got you."

"I can't do this." He breathed, probably not the exact baffling number Wufei had given him, but he managed to get his heart rate under control, even if not quite his brain.

At least the hands on him were still soothing. "Yes, you can. Don't think about anything but me and the numbers, okay? I'll count it out. One, two, three, four. Hold. One, two..."

"You don't understand." He kept his voice low, urgent, tucked up against Wufei and trying not to think, trying not to remember volunteering just to keep Vingt safe.

"I know. I know I don't. But now isn't the time for you to tell me, now is the time for you to pull yourself together. We cannot walk away from negotiations, or I'd have you on the way now." That was true. If he could, he would, but Treize couldn't afford it.

He nodded, nodded again, inhaled again, swore, and just stood there, leaning into Wufei and blanking his mind. They hadn't half started, and he couldn't let Dekim win. It took a while, but he finally thought he had control of himself. They were standing in the dark. His leg ached like hell, his head was pounding. Treize didn't know how he'd manage to make it through the afternoon.

"How are you feeling?"

"I am in a hell of my own devising." He straightened in the dark and rubbed a hand against his good eye, steadying himself against Wufei with his other hand. "It will have to do." 

He just couldn't let his mind wander for the rest of the day.

Wufei hummed. "Technically, it's a hell of my devising. More or less. You have to admit that much is true. I... saw? There was a choice that led to a child, I just didn't know she was yours."

"Can't talk about it now." He inhaled and held it, exhaled and then leaned back in to kiss Wufei for a moment to clear his mind. It was easy in the dark, a hand on his shoulder sliding to the nape of his neck, brushing against the elegantly over embroidered collar of Wufei's jacket.

"Mhm." Mmm, yes. Kissing him definitely took his mind off of it, or at least made it possible to put it at the back of his mind. It would be better if they were in their own room with Wufei's weight draped heavily over him. That would feel so much better. "Oh, that's nice."

But he could lose himself there, find himself there, the press of lips and the give of a familiar body against his in a way that wasn't grieving and pain, the needy interest that Wufei's mouth met his with, the way he kept him close, felt safe, and...

The door opened, a flood of light entering. "Wufei."

Fuck.

Wufei sighed and leaned back against the cart. "Heero."

He felt much more like himself as he exhaled, calmer and only mildly bothered by the interruption. "Pilot 01. Is it urgent?"

"You're going to be late to the next meeting."

It felt almost like Wufei laughed, but there was no sound of it when he spoke. "Ah. We'll be there in a moment."

At least they were going to make the meeting at all. He lingered for a moment, knowing a bit of show for passersby was much better than the assumption that he felt like having a nervous breakdown, and reached for his crutches. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Group document editing."

"Very exciting," Wufei agreed, handing him the one that had fallen to the side. His face was flushed and his mouth was pinker than it had been. "I'm sure it'll be a hit."

"It will be." He got himself steadied and then started out of the closet first as if nothing had happened. He headed back to the room they had already spent too much of the damn morning in to finish off the agreement.

He was going to be damned before he let Dekim knock his feet out from under him.

* * *

It had been a day.

He hated shared documents and his head hurt and he was still eying Treize a bit. Once they finally managed to get back to the room, he'd made him lie down before he even tried washing himself, and he'd promptly taken himself into the bathroom long enough to take a quick bath. It had been a good call because he didn't need the paranoia and stress that showers gave him. Not tonight.

Everyone at the conference had their damn knives out. He wasn't sure how anyone considered it fun or interesting or even a useful way to spend one's time when in his opinion it all could've been done over data streams. It might've taken two weeks more, a month more, but his stress level would have been so much lower.

"Are you all right in there?" Treize's voice was curious, indicating that he hadn't remained lying down and was probably likely to pop the door open and make sure he was okay if he didn't answer.

"Mmm. Just tired. You can come in if you want." It wasn't as if the man hadn't seen him naked. More than once.

He'd certainly seen him in the bath a time or five.

It was somehow familiar to see him crutch his way in with those ridiculous shorts on, red this time, and a faded blue T-shirt that seemed to be something about a Lake Victoria unit run. It was rather tight and perhaps a little short in a way that made him wonder how old it was. Treize had a ridiculous drawer filled with old exercise clothes, all of them soft on skin and light. He sat on the closed toilet seat, set the crutches aside, and leaned forward to trace fingers over Wufei's cheek. "I'm sorry about earlier. I lost hold of myself."

"It's fine." It really was. He was fairly certain that kind of revelation would have been more than sufficient to give him anxiety, so it wasn't as if it could possibly be Treize's fault. "You shouldn't apologize. Not your fault."

"I feel like apologizing for falling to hysterical pieces on you in a janitor's closet and then besmirching what's left of your reputation with mine." He was smiling and calm, and he didn't sound wound up to the ceiling, so somewhere in there his mind had settled. He slid his fingers back, starting to rub at Wufei's scalp.

There was no helping the groan that snuck out of him. "That feels too good. Not washing it tonight, though." He'd done that when they'd managed to get themselves out of bed.

Still. It felt nice.

"Tomorrow night, then." Treize shifted slightly, and he did enjoy doing things like that in a way that Wufei imagined could turn into full on leisurely body worship sessions, once he was more mobile. "Shame I didn't bring the massage oil. We packed light to keep room for all the damn formalwear."

"You're too good at all of these things. And if you keep that up, I'll fall asleep in the tub instead of sprawled half on top of you." He really liked that even though they had to be ridiculously careful when they did it. Once the fixator was off, it would be easier. "I can always ask for some. Heero probably wouldn't flinch."

"Well, we can't have that happen. I'm nowhere near able to pick you up from the tub yet." He kept up the slow gentle massage, and yes, maybe it was time to get up and go to bed. He was just.... wrung out. It was hard to imagine Treize wasn't.

"Right. Getting up," he said, and shifted to pull the drain and step out of the tub. Thank god it was separate from the shower. He probably wasn't going to be fond of those ever again.

They could work around it. "I'll be in once I clean up this mess." And then he'd smell of soap and antiseptic again. His face, when he let Wufei see under the bandages, was looking better. He'd be able to swap to an eye patch probably before the fixator came out.

He should probably consult the tailor about that, too. With the over the top military uniforms, he'd need something to match. That decided, Wufei let out a yawn as he began to wrap himself in a towel. "Hmm. You know I don't mind, yes? It's my fault, after all."

Then again, he was talking to a man who was covering medical bandages with a strip of black silk. He looked at Wufei in the mirror. " _I_ mind looking at it."

Once he had himself dry and the towel wrapped around his waist, Wufei stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Treize's waist. "Mm. Yes. As you like. I just thought you should know."

He could probably get away with any number of ridiculous statements as long as he was touching Treize when he said it, because the man relaxed while peeling the bandage back. Yes, it was all looking much better, no red and puffy, hardly any oozing, and it was nice to see Treize's other eyebrow. "You're very stubborn."

"I don't see why you should expect anything else. All things considered." He stroked the soft cotton over Treize's belly. "I'm going to find pajama bottoms."

"All right." He was entering the ritual of alcohol wipes and cotton batting and more antibiotics, but everything was better than it had seemed for that flash of reaction at lunch. It didn't mean either of them had talked about it or thought about it, past getting through the meetings.

A daughter. He'd seen the girl, but he hadn't guessed what was going on, another random bit of information that only cleared in hindsight. Now that he'd seen what color Treize's beard came in, it was so much more obvious. Eight and leading troops.

Christ.

Either she hadn't killed anyone yet or she was going to be the biggest sociopath anyone had ever known, which was fucking terrifying. It wasn't as if Treize was in any way capable of being a parent at the moment, either. It was possible he never would be, so where did that even leave them?

He hadn't been able to contemplate it, completely falling apart, just telling Wufei he didn't understand, and he wasn't sure it was something that he even wanted to bring up again if they all wanted Treize to be functional in the morning. And he looked so at ease and relaxed when he crutched out of the bathroom, crossing the wide floor with the no doubt expensive antique carpet and moving toward the king bed. It wasn't as nice as the one back in Brussels, but it wasn't bad by any measure.

Wufei tugged on a t-shirt, ruffling his hair with one hand. "Get settled?" It worked better if Treize managed to get himself comfortable before Wufei draped over him, and it seemed to work for him. It helped, or maybe that was another kink, he wasn't sure.

It was on the list of things to talk about eventually. It wasn't as if body to body contact was hard for him, and the man slept very still and mostly quiet. The not always wanting to orgasm, that... that was a kink, he was sure of that, and what was the line between simply enjoying something and a kink or a fetish?

"Yes." He had to pile pillows up to keep his leg still, but it didn't take long, and Wufei curled up against his side once he had turned off the light, sprawled comfortably on his front. The covers were thick, thank god, because the room had proven to be freezing overnight.

Once he was settled, Wufei breathed out, long and perhaps a bit relieved. "Day one is over."

Treize chuckled softly, sliding a hand over Wufei's back idly. "Three more to go. If they're half as exciting as today's... At least Relena has the opening speech tomorrow. Election procedures."

"Thank god. That means I don't have to pay attention." He was never at his best in the morning. Anyone who expected him to be coherent before nine should think again because no. Just. No. He'd only been coherent this morning because Treize had needed him and had poured an ungodly amount of coffee in him first. It had been a show worth showing up for, all of it. It was like someone flipped a switch in his head, and he just fell into an effortless interaction with the strangers around him.

When everything was going smoothly. "I know you read the paperwork on it," Treize murmured, half a tease because Wufei had also checked the spelling and grammar on some of it. "If you nod off, I promise to wake you up."

"If I nod off, you should let me sleep," Wufei muttered. He was too comfortable sprawled over his side. It was ridiculous. "Treize?" It was a question and not a question all at once. "This thing. Whatever you decide. It'll be fine." Probably. Maybe. God, he hoped he didn't decide to try raising a kid.

He felt Treize inhale, holding the breath for a slow deliberate count that was perhaps a little closer to twelve than eight. "I am incapable of contemplating it without thinking about what I lived through. I can't."

Wufei nodded against his chest. "You don't have to do anything, you know. Obviously you have to do something, but... you can make other arrangements."

"I'll make other arrangements. I." He exhaled in a slow breath, and perhaps he had thought of it again at some point of the day. "My body wasn't mine until I went to Victoria. I can lead troops, train soldiers, mentor, but I can't take that level of responsibility."

What the hell did that mean? Now wasn't the time to ask. Not in the middle of this mess. He would put it to the back of his mind and ask about it later. "All right." His thumb stroked a smooth mark on Treize's shoulder, rubbing over it with the pad. Maybe it was self soothing, probably it was Treize soothing. Either way.

"Sometime we'll sit down with a couple of bottles of wine and I'll actually find the words." He shifted his shoulder gently, pressing into Wufei's touch, and then seemed to relax. "But not here."

"No. Not here." At least they were in agreement. "If that happens again, the thing at lunch. Is there something better to try than what we did?"

"Hmn, no that was quite good. Helped short circuit it. Zechs once punched me in the stomach. That worked, too, but I don't think it's necessary." He couldn't quite imagine what Treize like that and Zechs with whatever his issues had been must have looked like when they were both younger. Howling insanity probably had nothing on it, but the sex had probably been good.

"Are you sure he wasn't from L2? That sounds like their kind of crazy." Never mind that it was well known that he was Prince Mirialdo Peacecraft.

"He seems to be blending in well with Dorothy." Treize's voice was soft, low, muzzy as the drugs kicked in. Duo had been aggressively agitated, but not upset when Wufei had spoken with him.

"Mhm. 'm pretty sure she's enjoying the fight that doubtless ensues every time she wants something." His thumb was still stroking, and he let out a low sigh, burrowing into the soft cotton of Treize's old shirt.

"It's important to have someone to argue with." Between the heat of the blankets, the comfort and warmth beneath him, it was easy to just drift off. He would worry about the morning in the morning.

* * *

They should have expected it.

To be honest, they sort of had. Not precisely this, but _something_ , and they'd had comms running before the first week of being on the outside had actually been accomplished. Duo had set up an old school (very old school, ancient old school) BBS to keep in contact, and Heero was the one who was mostly free to move about so he'd been the one to make the arrangements.

Stealthily.

Wufei hadn't liked giving up Nataku's location. They'd insisted that they had launched them into the sun, but the truth was that would have been utterly stupid.

Not even Quatre had been that bent on surrender, not when their own positions were so tenuous.

The first shuddering explosion on the castle had put them all into motion; had broken up the meetings quickly as delegates looked to shelter in place or try to work out what was going on. It was chaos, pure and simple, and the colony delegates from L1 and L3 were suddenly conspicuously absent from the rooms -- not in any of the sidebars, or at least that was the information he was getting on the radio he'd grabbed from Heero as he ran to the far ground level area where Heero had stored everything.

To say the place was a fucking maze would be a kindness, but he figured he couldn't miss if he followed Heero. The others seemed to have gotten the same idea because they were all flat out running until they hit the bunker where Heero had quietly stored things away.

"Y'all know we're probably going to be in deep shit after this, right?" Duo was panting a bit, mostly because he was short as fuck compared to Trowa's long legs and Heero's dogged determination to move faster than all of them.

"We'll work that out later!" It would be harder for them to be ungrateful if they were alive rather than dead, and he knew what it sounded like when a mobile suit launched an attack on a building. He just didn't usually get to experience it from the inside. 

And damned if Heero didn't have everything set up like he had full run of the place, because they came out to scaffolding that was at cockpit height for all their Gundams, and wrapped around them. All five, a Vayeate, a Taurus, and a couple of old Leos that he was sure Heero had pillaged for parts. So Une and Noin as well.

There wasn't time for questions, there wasn't time to wonder. They split up, and Nataku was already opening for him, like she knew he was coming, and he slid inside her, had her up and moving with a handful of flicked switches. They connected, and it had been so _long_. If anyone had told him a decade ago that this was his future, he would have laughed at them, and yet it felt natural, felt normal.

Felt perfect and terrifying all at once, but he could pilot effortlessly; the cockpit closed around him and he was one with Nataku, launching up through the opening holes in the roof. There was no time to waste, and it seemed like they were entering in the midst of a fraught battle, with some of the pilots in the Leos fighting off other Leos while they tried to simultaneously fire on a populated city, a populated castle. The first thing to do was draw their fire, and then carry it away out to sea if they would follow.

Originally, they had all fought separately; they'd been individual soldiers, not a unit. The last battle, the one they had lost, had solved that problem, and they shifted into place, Heero rising above, Wing Zero's metal feathers spreading in a terrifying display as Trowa stepped in beneath him, the other three fanning out, Quatre's shotels heating up to his right, Duo's thermal scythe a blaze of green to his left. Something clicked in them, and he didn't know _how_ Quatre did it or what it was that made the modified ZERO system work the way it did; he just did, and it just worked, and they were moving in concert then, his own trident a flare to match Duo's scythe.

It made it easier for them to coordinate to clear a space, to protect the city, to spread and not attack _each other_. It was a show, but it drew attention and fire and Wufei knew how to surge forward and attack. They were Leos, and the pilots were determined but not highly skilled.

There were just hundreds of them.

Add in the fact that they seemed to be fighting one another, and it was hard to tell for a moment, but when he saw it, it clicked -- some of them had bands wrapped around the left thigh marked L1 in a color so offensive that it was impossible to miss.

The grin stretching across his face was feral when he launched, and he was fairly certain he heard Heero's maniacal laughter, Duo howling that he was the god of death with a glee that should be disturbing. He felt the steady presence of Trowa, rock solid, and Quatre's constant instruction.

He shouldn't have been, wasn't, surprised when the Taurus and the Vayeate came up to the field, the Taurus falling smoothly in with Sandrock. They were both fast, but had to keep a distance from close combat. Wufei had used close combat to take them out before, it was always a risk with them. 

But Noin and Une knew what they were doing, loathe as he was to admit it; the Vayeate blew away a Leo that was coming in toward his left before he could even swipe at it, helping to clear the field.

After that, everything was a blur of parry and attack and parry again. He was good at close combat, and he wasn't afraid to burn something down around him if he had to do it. He would rather not consider how close the city was, but there were so many of them that he thought they'd be mowing them down for a while.

Wufei fell into it, and Quatre got comms up with Noin finally, or Noin got comms up with them, just as the Vayeate kicked a Leo into Duo's line of fire and stole its beam saber, pushing further to the edge of the horseshoe they had formed to sweep back the enemy.

That _fucker_!

He recognized that move. It was sneaky in a way that he knew intimately, but he didn't have time to do anything more than yell out his fury and disable another mobile suit. The Leos from L1 were with them now, so he'd just have to pray that Treize was, in fact, nearly impossible to kill and that he didn't do something stupid like injure himself so badly that he lost more than he already had. It definitely fed into his fighting, anyway, making him a bit more desperate to get it over and done.

They all had something to lose now, though his something was outside with them, alternating canon fire and saber strikes, darting faster behind Leos to cut open their cockpits, and he couldn't watch, had to focus on what was in front of him and where the other Gundams were, the marked Leos that were falling in as support now. The enemy was regrouping, trying to, a larger group clustering to charge while a second pack shot past them toward the castle.

Heero broke off with them, and a Leo moved out of place to follow him, Noin's voice over comms advising that she was behind him, and the rest of them closed ranks to keep any more from following. The split second of Wufei's attention diverting nearly ended in him getting hit, but there was that damn Vayeate, beam saber cutting the legs out from under the Leo before it made connection.

He swore the damn thing saluted him before it darted off back into the fray, moving too fast while it swept three more Leos away with the beam cannon. And then the last of the Leos seemed to have settled on a technique, as they started to dwindle -- throwing themselves at the Gundams, first trying to take out Deathscythe, and then Sandrock, and then five of them came at Nataku at once. It was suicidal, but the tide had turned and they all knew it.

Killing someone outright never felt good, but it wasn't as if they'd given him any other choice. Wufei's trident swung, and they didn't even have time to realize that his twin beam cannon had risen behind his back to take out whoever was left.

They had started it and he was going to end it, even if he took a jarring in the process. It wasn't time to relax, it was time to scan and see what the damage was, that everyone was up, that no one was going to snipe them from a landing site, that it was actually over. That the Vayeate was still standing. "Does anyone have comms with Lady Une?" Quatre asked. Heavyarms was breaking away to turn and see if the castle needed support, he supposed, but the firing seemed to have stopped.

"I'm up. That child and Barton have kidnapped Queen Relena. Requesting support in the castle, rendezvous throne room. They have dismounts infiltrated into the building."

He'd known it. "You're an asshole," he declared, scowling.

"I got this!" Duo yelled and he was gone then, heading back to the castle, so Heavyarms turned back to help keep the remaining L3 forces from joining the ones who'd broken through previously.

The Vayeate shot out another L3 Leo that looked like it was advancing, and the L3 forces were hanging back now. It wasn't surrender, but it wasn't attack. Then again, at any point one of them could start shooting again. "Wufei, language, please -- if that's not Une..."

"It's Treize, and he's crazier than I thought." Quatre was lucky that his language hadn't been worse, to be honest.

"Oh." Quatre had never fought him, and it was perhaps easy to forget the man was a pilot, had been a stupid, reckless frontline fighter. The Vayeate was a prototype, and Une couldn't have had much work done on it since Trowa had test piloted it. He wasn't even sure if it had comms installed in it, or...

One of the L3 Leos fired at Nataku, and the uneasy wait ended.

Time to get back to business.

* * *

Without functioning comms, there was nothing to do but wait until the three Gundams started to fall back once the field was clear. It took a while, and then suddenly the last forty or so started to make signs of surrender, cockpits popping open. He had no idea what was going on, and his head was killing him to the point that one hand felt weak. He'd never used the Vayeate's new interface, which was in fucking Universal, and it was perhaps best just to wait until there was a motion from the other mechs that indicated what was next.

It wasn't entirely surprising when guards wearing Preventers uniforms came from the castle and began rounding up the pilots, more cockpits opening, and Treize finally relaxed, head dropping back against the rest, _throb-throb-throb_ , and he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Well. Thank god that was over, then, although he wasn't sure he wanted to get out of the mobile suit and face the no doubt pissed off Gundam pilot that would be waiting for him.

There were still the final logistics of getting down, and that was easier from the bays where they'd all launched. He couldn't quite surrender to rest yet, so he put the thing into motion to return to base, feeling battered and a little high while his head pounded at him.

Unsurprisingly, Wufei's Gundam was right behind him, guarding his back, and that set off a sense of annoyance in him because obviously he could protect himself. He'd been fighting when Wufei was still in diapers, although that certainly didn't make him feel any better about things just at the moment. There was a great deal to unpack in that thought, so he let it go, took the Vayeate to the bay he'd taken it from, and carefully maneuvered into the space without knocking over any of the scaffolding. Now, now he could relax, fumbling off the seat restraints, thumbing the cockpit open button.

"Are you fucking insane?" Ah, but he did like them fiery. There was no question of that. "What if you'd taken a hit, what if you'd hit your head or jarred your leg, or..." He could see the possibilities spiraling out into something a little like panic, and redirected into fury. "Goddamn it!"

He had an explanation except it was all justifications, weighing of his chances minimally armed and on crutches, or in a mech. The answer had seemed obvious. "It's good to see you, too." Treize chuckled, running both hands together back through his hair, because his skull was pounding. "Mm, help me up. Please."

"Fuck you!" He reached out, though, because it wasn't true anger. Not entirely. "You're such an ammmph!" Yes, kissing him was excellent, and if his leg were any better, they'd probably be flat on the platform trying not to drown in their own sweat and fall asleep right there. Pulling Wufei into the cockpit with him was good because he was absolutely an asshole, yes, and Wufei's mouth was fierce against his when he got a hand fisted into the front of Wufei's ridiculously fancy jacket that was soaked through with sweat now.

When the kiss let up, he found Wufei sprawled over him, panting. "God, I could just hit you. Come on, let's get out of here before someone gets back and we find that we've given them a show."

"Don't care." He exhaled hard, trying not to feel it too much because the dress uniform hid just as little as the daily OZ uniform. "Fuck. You can fight me over it when we're alone. All right." He could hear other mechs, engines, and was sure they probably had given someone a show.

"Fight you over it, hah." Scoffing wasn't nice. Then again, it wasn't as if there were a lot of options once the fixator was calculated into the equation. "Shower, fresh clothes, and I suspect we'll be expected before we even have time for a nap, much less what you're contemplating."

"None of the above." Quatre called out to them as he was getting out of his cockpit. "Mike's hot. Wufei, your mike's hot." Hah, still tangled up in his jacket, or no, shoved into a pocket. That was an easy way to mis-key. "Security wants everyone in the throne room."

The look on Wufei's face was the best -- a little pained, a little embarrassed, and a little amused, all trying to figure out which one took precedence. "Dammit." Reaching up, he tugged it loose and corrected the problem before calling back to Quatre. "Roger that."

He got a thumbs up for his trouble, and Treize loosened his hold on Wufei. "You didn't happen to see my crutches out there, did you?" Not that he thought he had the energy to do anything useful with them, but if they were headed to the throne room he was going to try.

"They're lying right on the platform where you dropped them." Wufei pulled away from him a little more. "You're still an asshole."

He went to get the crutches anyway.

"Yes." It was easy to be agreeable, to get himself standing on one leg and a little dizzy while Wufei handed them to him. "Couldn't pass up the chance."

"To try and kill yourself again?" Wufei snorted. "Can you even stand on those?"

He was quiet for a moment in a way that Wufei was probably learning meant he was trying to pick his words. "Probably not but I was going to try."

"Quatre!" He still wasn't out of the bay because Sandrock was furthest away from the entrance. "If they want us in the throne room, His Excellency here needs a wheelchair."

Quatre waved one hand in acknowledgment as he made his way out of the hangar. "Roger."

"Now you're just being absurd." He was leaning in the door of the cockpit, holding himself upright, though, and rather sure Wufei was right.

Wufei's shoulders lifted. "I'm half a foot shorter than you. It's not like I can carry you, even piggyback, without making things worse."

He shifted back from the edge of the cockpit, and sat back down. "You might as well join them; it's going to be a long wait." Staff would be scattered, and somehow something about the castle he had a good hunch that they barely had guest rooms, never mind functioning medical space, and with the battle there were people who were actually actively wounded and needed to be triaged.

That earned him another shrug. "They won't need me. Plus we don't know if they've captured everyone, so I'm not about to leave you here alone and unguarded." Never mind the mobile suits.

"You were always the pilot on the outside." He let his head rest back against the headrest.

"It never bothered me." Wufei sat on the platform, legs folded comfortably. "My mother said I was the most independent child she ever knew. I've always gone my own way."

And he was going his own way again. Treize sighed, watching him sitting out there. "You were wonderful out there."

"I'm always wonderful," he was informed. "And also incredibly modest." The slight curve to his mouth was visible. "How are you feeling?"

"Battered," he admitted, lifting an eyebrow at Wufei. With the adrenaline dying down, he could feel it had probably been a very bad choice, and his head was pounding worse than ever. It was enough to make a man's eyes water. Eye water. "It was good to know I haven't lost it."

Frowning, Wufei knelt up and went digging into his trousers, coming up with Treize's afternoon meds in a small pillbox. "Ha! I did put them in." They didn't have any water, though, and that made him scowl. "Will you be all right for a few minutes? I think there might be something in Nataku's storage. It isn't a big space, but."

"I can take them dry, and as I said, I'm fine here. Still armed." He could always shut the cockpit, but the hanger area was silent. Blessedly silent, which boded well for them having taken out the threat.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should. The antibiotics are huge." And Wufei had better sense than to hand them to him before he went to check storage.

When he returned, it was with four bottles in hand, two of which he handed to Treize along with his meds.

It was hard not to smirk, but he didn't. He took his pills and the water and downed them with care. "We'll be able to finish this off now. As long as Relena's alive."

"We'd have undoubtedly heard something by now if she weren’t."

And then they did hear something which had Wufei tense and turning, eyes narrowed, but it was only Quatre with the expected wheelchair. "They really do need you both now. Sorry it took so long, but Relena remembered this old thing from when they were exploring the castle and deciding what to do with things."

"Glad you came at all." He took another swig of water, and paused before using his good leg to get to the cockpit door again. "So the Queen is alive, then."

"Very much so. Although I'm afraid there was An Incident." The capital letters were audible.

Wufei scowled, hand on Treize's elbow as he helped him into the chair. "An incident?"

Quatre nodded. "Yes. Dekim shot a little girl who says she's Treize's daughter. She's in surgery now, but Dekim is dead."

That was too much information all at once, and between the headache and the loss of the adrenaline, he let it skitter off of him. "Who killed him?" Dekim had brought her here and then shot her. That was almost proof of paternity all by itself.

"Lady Anne. She wasn't fast enough to prevent it, I'm afraid."

Wufei placed the extra bottle of water in Treize's hand and then handed his second one to Quatre. "You can probably use it."

"Oh, thanks." Quatre looked a little surprised, and stopped for a moment to drink about half.

He shook his head a little. "Wufei, are you sure I didn't take another blow to the head?"

That earned him a scowl. "Why? And how would I know? You went into battle already injured. Let me check your eye and see if it's dilated." 

"Because that sounded perfectly insane. I have a daughter and she's been shot. By her own grandfather." He closed his eye for a moment. They'd known it had been Dekim, but whatever the full plan had been surely it hadn't warranted all of that death.

Quatre sighed. "I think he's fine, just... it does sound a bit odd, doesn't it? She's stable and expected to survive. The L1 representative is terribly smug just now, you know."

"I'm sure he is. They were good reinforcement." Quatre started to push the chair forward. 

None of it made sense, and he was glad he'd been out in the field where the world did make sense and not in the hallways and the meeting rooms.

"He was obnoxious in the earlier meetings," Wufei grumbled. "Even if he was trying to convince Dekim that he was on his side."

"No better way to stay on the inside." A daughter. Who was shot and being taken care of, but had been shot, and it was just unthinkable. He hadn't taken a bullet until he was at least thirteen, and they knocked out so much from a body.

They began to encounter more and more traffic the closer they came to the throne room, and Treize was already exhausted. The sweat was drying and he might possibly be willing to commit murder if it got him into a shower sooner. He couldn't imagine why security -- Heero, Une -- wanted everyone in the throne room unless they were doing a room to room search of the place to clear it.

"Do they know how many we'll need to account for?" Wufei asked as they stepped into the main part of the castle.

Quatre shook his head. "They're even checking the closets or so I'm told."

"How many surrendered?" Maybe forty on the field, from what it looked like, but had any of the infantry surrendered?

"Once Dekim died, everyone surrendered. They're still counting them and the dead. It seemed like there were a lot of them."

"It always does seem that way," Wufei agreed, and two guards stepped up to open the throne room door for them.

Everyone else was already inside. It felt a little like everyone had been anticipating, or like they were late.

There was blood on Relena's dress.

"Welcome, gentlemen." If her voice was a little tart, well. It had been a long day. "Do come in, as we're all gathered, we've decided on a course of action. It will, of course, have to be agreed upon before we go forward."

"What've you decided on?" Not that he was going to be a holdout vote when everything had been going quite so well to his plans but it would be good to know what it was.

Relena's chin lifted. "That the Gundam pilots should be free to pursue their own paths in thanks for defending us from the onslaught of L3."

Not enough time. Not enough fucking time, but he was sure he didn't blink when he said, "Of course. Without question. They proved their loyalty to a United Earth Colonies Nation if anyone needed it proved to them."

Wufei went still beside him, eyes shifting to glance at him from the side. He couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking, or what anyone else was thinking for that matter. His head was killing him.

"Then we're all in agreement. We'll have the paperwork drawn up before everyone is ready to leave." Relena raised a hand. "They're clearing the floors where everyone is housed first and you'll shortly be able to go to your rooms. We'll reconvene tomorrow at ten and we can address anything that absolutely must be completed before we leave at that time."

With L3 gone and L1 having been so helpful, he was mostly sure that L1 would get to set the tone of the demands. It surprised him a little to see the L2 rep looking shocked, like everything was new and perhaps less new than he wanted all at the same time. Representative Crawford looked supremely pleased with himself and Treize was half inclined to be just as pleased on the man's behalf. 

Lady Une was nowhere to be seen, but if she had been involved in a shooting that was more reason for her not to be in the room. From a quick look around the room, everyone else was present and accounted for from the delegation leads, though looking wary.

He looked up at Wufei, just wondering what he was going to see there.

Blank. His face said nothing and his eyes were looking forward, but there was a set to his spine that was worrisome.

"Man, what are we even gonna do with ourselves?" Duo mused, lacing his hands behind his head and leaning back slightly. "Hey, Dotty!"

Treize's cousin sighed, eyes rolling heavenward. "Yes, Duo?"

He gave a feral grin. "What are you gonna do without me?"

"I'm going to be very sad and try to lure you back with money," she replied playfully. 

Yes, she would. 

It just hadn't been enough time to go one way or the other, and he had a _daughter_ , and he was completely incapable, and. And he was so tired. So fucking tired.

It was a shame he'd been better than the no doubt children Dekim had sent to the slaughter to try to show them all up, that there was no way to disable a mech without a killing blow that one might survive on a thin margin. That the ones who would now fall under their new lenient laws would be crippled or damaged some way, and trying to work out what to do.

That they were all there in that room, crippled or damaged some way and trying to work out what to do. Quatre had a home to go to, and was hugging his sister. Heero had a place in Sanc. 03, somewhere back in the colonies.

He lifted his right hand and turned a little, placing it over Wufei's where it rested on the back of the borrowed chair.

It wasn't his imagination that it felt tense, but once Treize's hand was there, it seemed to relax. The release of his breath in a sigh seemed significant. "I suppose you still need an aide de camp." His voice was light, a little relieved.

"I do. Or you could just stay. I don't." He didn't know what they were doing but he didn't want him to go. "I don't need an excuse for you to stay."

"Oh." Just that, one syllable, two letters. _Oh_ , and it was more than sufficient and yet utterly less at the same time. He wanted more than that, he wanted something solid, he wanted...

God, he didn't know what he wanted.

"I'm glad this is the future ZERO showed me."

"I'm going to give you a wrench and let you take Epyon apart when we get back." He wasn't sure why he said it, but he didn't want to know anymore. He believed Wufei had made the choices he had for a reason, because he found it acceptable, and Treize didn't personally need to experience any more than that himself.

He could trust that Wufei was comfortable and that there was something in the future for him.

* * *

When Wufei woke the next morning, the room was cold and the covers were warm. He was curled into Treize's side, and they were clean and comfortable. It was, to be quite honest, perfect.

He hadn't expected yesterday. None of it, but particularly being... well. He supposed it was pardoned for lack of a better word. And then being asked to stay, or told that he would be welcome. He hadn't looked that deep into things. Just snapshots; he had skimmed this, somehow, and he wondered if it meant it was set in time or it was wildly changeable. The world's philosophers hadn't grappled with ZERO.

They would probably try to grapple with the insane man he was curled up against, who was breathing slow and steady and had definitely whacked the fixator in that stupid prototype mech even if he swore he hadn't. If his head hurt so terribly from the rotational Gs he'd been taking, then surely he had smacked the fixator.

Wufei didn't want to be alone. Not the truly deeply alone he had seen so many times, gently sheared off from the rest of the world as if they granted him a kindness in the pushing.

It wasn't a kindness. It was nothing like a kindness, it left him lost and alone and isolated. Nothing about that was kind. It ached at the core of him, and he sighed against Treize's shoulder. They were slightly sweaty from the warmth of the covers and he thought perhaps he could doze off if he laid there long enough. 

The remainders, his _release_ paperwork was going to start at ten, and from the clock on the wall, expensive and old and probably refurbished, they had three hours. He could doze off. He could also check that the idiot he was sharing a bed with hadn't had a brain hemorrhage in the night, and someone had to have helped him into that mech.

He was going to kick Noin's too-loyal by half ass. Although he did have to admit that she'd earned a lot more respect from him than he'd had at their first encounter.

His thumb found the scar on Treize's shoulder and began to gently stroke it, which he'd found himself doing anytime they were settled together like this. It was soothing, and he let out another sigh, squirming until he was slightly more comfortable. He could feel the rise and fall of Treize's chest, and that was enough to lull him back to dozing a bit.

When he surfaced again, maybe fifteen, maybe half an hour later, Treize was rubbing small circles along his spine, idle and comfortable. "Morning. Should I get up and start coffee?"

Wufei mumbled something against his shoulder for a moment before he managed to yawn and make himself speak clearly. "'d be surprised if you could. Be a miracle."

"Haven't tried yet." He turned his head, pressed a kiss against Wufei's hair. "Don't you miss it?"

"Miss miracles?" Wufei lifted his head, blinking at Treize. "What?"

"Piloting." Fighting, war, he meant, darting behind another mech and kicking it squarely off center of gravity before blowing it away, because there was nothing passive about the word 'pilot', but it was polite and it skimmed through society. Treize shifted slightly, leaning up just a little so he could start to sit up. "I suppose you don't, no."

Wufei rolled onto his back to make it easier for him to move. "I'm good at it," he finally said, "but I think I would be happy without it." He paused. "Do you?"

"I'll miss it." He licked his bottom lip, watching Wufei. "But the world changes, and now it wants peacekeepers. What would make you happy?"

"You ask me this when I'm not coherent yet?" Betrayal on all sides. Ugh. "I don't know. Possibly I should write my memoirs." God, he wasn't old enough to write memoirs, was he? "You make me happy. If anyone had told me that six months ago, I'd have called them a liar."

"I want to take you to museums. I want to show you my city." There was a tone to his voice, like he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to do that. "I'm not leaving OZ until everything is settled. So you'll have time to write your memoirs while we try to fix all of this." The war, the state of the world. Fix all of that, but he hadn't mentioned or asked about his daughter since that one half-astonished comment in the hanger.

That would need addressing as well.

For the moment, though, Wufei let the warmth of it spread over him, the idea that Treize _wanted_ to do things somehow settling into him down to his bones. "I would love to see your city and your museums and stay with you."

It didn't have to end in suicide. It didn't have to end that way at all. "I want to give you a place where you belong." There was something soft, funny and maybe a little sad in Treize's smile when he leaned down to kiss Wufei.

It was soft and sweet, just a gentle press of his mouth that lingered, and Wufei sighed against it, their morning breath mingling terribly. "I want to be the place you call home," he whispered.

Treize made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. It seemed to startle him, sliding one hand against Wufei's shoulder blade to pull him in closer for a deeper kiss. It still tasted like morning breath, but Wufei didn't care, just opened for him, let his tongue slip inside, his hands coming up to cradle Treize's face as they pressed against one another.

The beard rubbed against his fingers, but the groan against his mouth was a distraction from it. Treize was half leaning over him, the closest he'd ever come to pushing Wufei into the bed, because he'd been careful about that. "I want you so badly right now. I would have fucked you right there in the cockpit yesterday."

He smirked, looking up at him. "I'd have let you." That was all either of them needed. Treize groaned and Wufei pushed him back onto the mattress, continuing to kiss him as he took the time to get his leg settled. Once he did, Wufei climbed over him, sitting up and looking down at him. "If you wake me up like this every day, I won't object."

"I'm going to get this damn thing off and wake you up better," he promised, curling fingers against Wufei's hip. Then it was a skimming touch down the back of Wufei's thigh and the delicious feeling of being one quick squirm backwards to pinning Treize's erection down with his ass.

God, willing sex was fantastic. "I can't wait." And if he was smiling when he said it, well. There was no reason not to, and so he leaned down and offered Treize his mouth again, shivering when he took him up on it. For a few moments, everything went soft and sweet, nothing more than kiss after kiss, until all he could do was moan and rock against him.

Calmer than the day before, when he could feel, and everyone got to hear Treize's urge to fuck him right there in the cockpit, and maybe he was starting to develop a suggestion of a voyeur interest. Reverse Voyeur? Exhibitionism, that was it. And the kissing, the endless kissing, and Treize's hands on his hips encouraged him to shift back just a little when he broke contact. "Let me find the, damn, lube or..."

"I've got it." He leaned over, reaching for the drawer and felt Treize's hands sliding everywhere, but also holding onto his thighs to keep him from toppling off of him and the bed altogether. 

Heero didn't disappoint him. It hadn't been there two days ago, but it was there now, and he sat up, small tube in his fingers. He held it up triumphantly.

"Perfect." Treize leaned up for a kiss, taking the tube from him. "I can't have you pinned under me and begging, so I can at least make this feel very good..." It was a sealed tube, so there was a moment of him peeling the foil off the end of the tube and smirking before smearing some on his fingers.

"I can beg just as well from on top of you," Wufei assured him, and while he'd never tested whether he'd been into that, now was as good a time as any.

Treize sat up even as he took a detour with his slicked fingers to skim the base of Wufei's dick, just enough pressure to make him react before sliding fingers back further. "I just want to feel you."

"You can. For as long as you want." Leaning back, he rested his left hand on Treize's thigh, putting the other one on his own to maintain his balance, letting him have access to anything he wanted. His cock listed to the left, hard, and he sighed stroking the hand on his thigh up to take hold of himself.

The huff of breath that got him in reaction was good, the way Treize circled his asshole slowly with one slicked finger was better. "If you need to stop, if -- It's fine, I don't care, anything we do is enough. All right?"

Wufei nodded. "I'll say stop." He'd loved this before, with Mu Tsu. He hadn't been embarrassed to experiment with Meiran. He wasn't embarrassed now, and yes, there had been some pretty terrible things between then and now, but... this was here with someone who held his affections, someone who would take the word stop or no as definitive. It would maybe be easier if they were kissing, but there were range of motion issues and he could adjust, he was sure. This wasn't him slammed against a wall and...

No cold tiles under his face, against his chest, hands in his hair too tight, a threat, and a body behind him. Treize sat up the rest of the way, leaning on his left hand, and everything between them was a little crowded, but maybe moving was for the best because he shifted his right hand back, and used his right leg for traction to move them back against the headboard. "Never thought I'd miss that damn reclining couch."

He huffed out a laugh, and that... that made things better. That let out some of the tension, and Treize's fingers were gentle, easy, slick, just caressing, not doing anything else. "I will be glad to go back to Brussels, yes."

"Yes. Territory you know..." They were closer, and it was more likely he was going to knock the fixator, but it felt better closer, and Treize leaned in a little bit more to kiss him while he settled one finger back to just teasing, slowly.

Something about that was enough to make him relax, and he sighed, bringing his right hand up to cup Treize's jaw, turn him this way and that, ah, that made it easier. That made it so much easier because he could feel him, feel the hair against his fingers, the warmth of his thigh, the easy slide between his cheeks, and yes.

Yes.

This.

Something closely intimate and undeniable about who he was with. Treize sighed against his mouth, just starting to press that one finger in slowly. "Like you close like this."

"Me, too." It was a whisper against his chin, his beard scratchy against Wufei's lips, and he brought his face up, nuzzling against Treize's, hiccoughing out a breath when he was breached. This was fine, it really was, although it took him a moment to get that through his head, to come to terms with how things were going. He refused to give up something he enjoyed because there were assholes in the world who'd hurt him, hurt them all.

Treize turned his head, tipped his mouth to kiss against Wufei's neck. There was a slow motion easing in of that finger and then just as slowly back out. "I've been working on my problems for thirty years and I'm not over them. Don't feel you need to rush."

"Mhm." He tilted up his chin. "I want..." His voice was a thready whisper. "I want to take back the things I liked before. I don't want anyone to have control over me but me." And it felt good. It did, warm and slick and teasing, his cock rubbing against Treize's belly.

"Okay. Okay. I'll stop asking." Wufei doubted that, but he liked the way Treize nipped at the skin of his jaw, and then pressed kisses over it, twisting his finger slowly, his other hand rubbing at Wufei's upper thigh and hip. "You're here with me. Are you ready for more?"

A slow nod, and Wufei shifted to wrap both arms around Treize's shoulders, eyes closing. "Mhm." Yes, he thought he was. Everything was slow and slick and it felt good. It felt better to wrap himself around the man and remind him that he was very much there with him. The faint citrus smell of his shampoo was familiar, tinged with mint, and he breathed in, almost tasting it. 

The intrusion stopped, slowly eased back out, and then Treize moved his hand, shifting with Wufei's shifts. He knew the other man liked being wrapped up, and needed the closeness, too. He spread fingers against the small of Wufei's back, and then there was a touch of two fingers against him, just circling, pressing. "Could stay like this with you all day."

Something in him melted a little like that, a shuddering sigh working its way out of him. "Yes." Yes because he wanted this, yes because he wanted to stay all day, yes because those fingers were pushing in just a bit, just a tiny breach, and he moaned.

Treize arched a little, lifting his hips to press against him and trapping Wufei's cock between their bodies while he kept pressing in, slow and steady but firm. The stretch was good, was just right, not enough to hurt but enough to let him know it was there, and then Treize crooked his fingers just a bit and Wufei couldn't stop from crying out and tensing just a bit as a bolt of pleasure shook its way through him.

"Fuck! Oh, oh, yes, that, please." Please because it felt good, please because it made him dizzy with want. Just please in general.

Felt Treize shiver against him, exhaling in a huff before he kissed Wufei's neck again, the soft scrape of beard and the warm wet of mouth counterpoint to the firmer stroking inside of him that made his dick ache, his balls twinge. "Fuck yes."

Yes, so much yes, and he kept making that motion, making Wufei a mess, his cock leaking between their bodies. Fuck. Fuck, if just his fingers could do that, it would be worth it to push on and find out what the rest of him could do, but it was almost overwhelming, those little zings of pleasure, and he didn't think he could hold out for very long. "'m gonna..." Come if he kept it up, but his eyes were tight and his arms were around Treize, and coherency was the last thing he could manage, truth be told.

"Fuck, yes, yes..." Soft encouragement under all of it, under the twist and press of his hips that he couldn't control, and Treize's fingers slowing, pulling back again, playing lube slick and soft around the edge of his asshole. "You feel so good when you come."

Yes, he did, he felt amazing when he came, although maybe Treize meant it in not quite the same way. If he kept touching him like that, his cock rubbing against Treize's belly, it was going to happen sooner than he probably wanted, but ohhh, fuck. "Fuck," he whimpered. "Fuck fuck fuck yes, fuck!"

Three fingers eased in, slow and slick, and Treize's other hand pressed against his back again, steadying him when fingers pressed and crooked to tease at him one more time. "C'mon, go with it."

And that was it. That was perfect, and he buried his face against Treize's throat when he came, whining out his pleasure there, feeling himself clench around those fingers in a way that he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. God, it was good, and they were still in him, gentle, when he managed to pull back and catch Treize's mouth, shivering. "Fuuuck." He sounded drunk.

He felt drunk. Treize kissed him, moving those fingers a little, tentative, and it was maybe a little too much, but it made him shiver. "Hnh, that's good, you're perfect." He could feel Treize breathing hard, enjoying himself, maybe on edge from it.

Hearing that made him feel even more pleasure drunk. "Feels good." His voice was slurred, and his fingers were petting Treize, touch a little sleepy. "Do you want to come?" He didn't always. Best to ask.

Treize gave a huff, and kissed at his mouth for a moment, like he was stalling for time. Maybe he was, but it felt good, lazy while those three fingers lingered in him, keeping him stretched. "Do you want more, or are you done?"

Wufei hummed. "Could go either way. Now seems like a good time to try it." While he was loose and still full of the lingering sparks of orgasm.

"I'll stop if you say." His voice dropped a little, sliding fingers out finally, and Wufei felt like that little tube of lube was done for by now, while the hand on his back moved for a moment to grab the last of it.

"Okay." Because it was, or it would be, and Wufei wanted to try and wipe out everything that had happened before. He knew that probably wasn't the smartest or healthiest thing to do, knew that he probably needed to talk about it interminably, but that wasn't something he had time to do. This was something he could do now, and he stayed where he was, hand slipping between them to stroke idly at his still sensitive cock.

Both of them up against the headboard was better support, better position, and Treize shifted only a little to get him to lean back, reaching around Wufei to get them positioned. Nothing quick, nothing forceful, just a nudge here and an urging there to get him to lean back enough that Treize could press the head of his cock against Wufei instead of fingers. "Maybe if you control it."

Oh. That was a good idea and so Wufei let out a sigh, paused for a moment, and then began to rock down on him. It didn't feel bad or hurtful; he was just big, and every molasses slow millimeter seemed to open him more and more, making him whine and shudder with... he wasn't sure what. It wasn't bad, though, and Treize was patient under him even though he had to be feeling it.

The only signs were in the loose unsteadiness of fingers against his side, and a restless shift of his right leg, the odd huff of breath like he was controlling himself. "I wish you could see yourself."

"Hmmm?" Opening his eyes, Wufei looked at him, rocking slow and steady. His body opened up for Treize readily, already stretched, and he paused for a moment when it seemed overwhelming, eyes nearly shutting before he opened them again, imagining what Treize might be seeing. Him straddling the man's hips, cock halfway wedged into Wufei's ass, his own dick soft and his stomach sticky with semen, something halfway between obscene and poetic from the way Treize was looking at him, pale chest flushed red, mouth red from too much kissing.

He brought an unsteady hand up to touch the side of Wufei's neck, petting. "Beautiful."

He believed it every time Treize said it, because the expression on his face spoke to it more than the words coming from his mouth. Wufei moved up a bit, shifted, and slid down a little further on the downstroke, his breath catching because oh, that was good.

Treize exhaled in half a laugh, trying to not move and shifting only a little in response; not a thrust but a squirm. "See, we could do this all day."

Wufei hummed, settling his arms comfortably on Treize's shoulders. His knees were beginning to ache a bit from the way he was holding himself, but he was almost there. Almost, and he was getting hard again, which made it even better. "Mmmhm."

It got him a kiss on one arm for his trouble, Treize shooting him a slightly wicked look before giving another faint upward shift of his hips. "So close, how are you feeling?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Drunk," he finally decided, because that was fairly accurate. Drunk on Treize, on pleasure, on being well-sated and well-fucked even if they hadn't truly started yet.

"Want you thinking about this all day. No doubts." Another slow flex of Treize's right leg up and down gave a faint suggestion of a stroke, something he didn't control one hundred percent but didn't mind.

"And feeling it?" He clenched around him, letting out a breathless groan. "Fuuuck. Yes, please."

"Can I move?" His hands were roaming now, along Wufei's sides, touching skin, making him feel hot.

"Hmm. Do you want to move?" he leaned in and stole a kiss, all tongue and lips and sweetness.

"Yes. Please." He could get lost in those kisses, the easy way Treize leaned into him, pulling him in closer as much as he could. While asking permission to fuck him, that was something Wufei could get used to.

"Then yes." Yes, yes, yes, and there were hands on his hips, thumbs brushing against them, caressing his belly, and Wufei let out a heavy breath, reaching down to touch himself, moaning. He let himself just ride, while Treize steadied them both and flexed, starting a slow steady pace that left Wufei aching and his dick coming back around as he began to lose himself in it. "God, you feel so..."

Amazing. Fantastic, and he lifted and sank down on him again, head dropping back when he realized he had all of it, all of him, oh. Oh, yes, yes, he reached for Treize again, held him, sobbing because it was so good.

He was an over emotional fucked out mess, and it felt so good when Treize clutched at him, still for a moment and lost in the contact, and that was okay. "All mine."

Nodding his head, Wufei gasped out, "Yes, yes, yes, yours, yes." Yes, and he was still riding it out, and it felt so good. He was in control of it, he had Treize under him, and god, he just wanted. So much.

He wanted it to last all day and maybe he could, another day, back in Brussels, after they'd all had time to rest. After, if the world ever felt less crazy, whenever it happened, and they moved together smoothly until Treize started to go a little jagged, breathing harder and obviously trying not to fuck Wufei with abandon.

"Yeah. Yeah, go on, go on, I want it, I want you to..." And he started to tug on his prick, gasping and rocking down to meet him, feeling his second orgasm working its way back into existence. "Yes!"

There was something in French, something he knew was a swear, and Treize finally started to thrust up to him, hard, fast motions as quickly as he could flex his right leg to drive himself up into Wufei. "Yes, yes, yes..."

And then more curses, because Treize shifted just right, just so, and he cried out, loud and frantic because he was going to come, he was going to _come_ , and when it hit him it was even more intense than the first one, setting him on fire, making him shake with the force of it. He felt all of it, too much, every muscle in his body shuddering, a rush of relief hitting his brain, and the man beneath him clutching him close and moaning, gone stiff.

The world felt weird and shivery, and he was sprawled on top of Treize, kisses being mouthed against his neck. "Too much of this could kill us."

"But what a way to go." Definitely, and he managed to pull himself away to get a kiss of his own. "I need a nap. And a bath."

"I'll just have to dirty a few towels." Treize smiled at him, and shifted them both a little, as if it would encourage him out of bed. "No time for a nap or we won't make the formal signing."

If he whined about that, well. No one could blame him, especially when he yawned and tucked his head back into Treize's throat. "No."

He laughed quietly, and nudged Wufei again, throwing the blankets back, which was cruel. "Can't do it without us. Do you want Heero showing up?"

"Ugh. You owe me so much coffee. And if I doze off, you have to promise not to let me snore." Because it was actually likely. He needed a nap right at the moment, but Treize was right and so he moved, felt him slip free, and he gasped, because oh, that was... a very weird feeling, left him feeling open and altogether too pleasantly tingly.

It got him a surprised noise from Treize, a huff of breath as he clutched tight to Wufei for a moment that tangled them up more than got either of them moving. "I'll wake you up if you snore."

Leaning down, Wufei stole one last kiss. "Good. Now, let's go bathe, I'm sweaty and gross." And he'd have to wash his hair because of it.

Maybe he could talk Treize into washing it for him.

* * *

There was nothing like a thwarted invasion to take the frivolity out of a formal meeting, and make everyone focus on finishing the work that needed to be done to formalize the disarmament, the economic resources and outreach, and the election procedures. And there had been the agreement from the unity government to release the pilots, which had been a perfectly orchestrated ceremonial coup organized by Relena that was fit for the media streams it was going to end up in. The coverage so far has been heavy and ludicrous, according to Noin, and Treize had watched none of it. He'd apparently accidentally raised his stature again by joining the fight which hadn't been his intention at all.

Not everything was a manipulation.

It looked like it was going to ease out to a late afternoon return to Brussels until Lady Une approached him. "Your Excellency, it's good to see that you're doing well following yesterday's battle." And if she cast a glance at Wufei as if to ask whether he was up to the task, well. She knew how difficult it was to keep him out of trouble. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course." He was even back on his crutches now that he had feeling in his hand again. "What is it?"

She bit her lower lip. "Mariemaia survived her injury and the following surgery. She'd like to see you."

"I see. Where is she?" She knew how he felt, and she had fought him on the topic, argued, and tried to 'talk him around'.

It had been a waste of both their times.

Anne's hands folded together. "Queen Relena has quite kindly made provisions for her once she's released from hospital, but for now she's in a step-down unit at the hospital." The pause stretched for a long moment. "She doesn't expect anything from you. I was hoping to ask...."

"Yes?" He could survive seeing her, he supposed, though it might make the nightmare of it more real. He wondered if Une had explained to Relena; he wondered if it had ever sunk in with Une.

Her fingers clenched together. "She'll be needing a guardian and I thought that perhaps I could volunteer."

He felt himself relax slightly. "Of course. Perhaps we could discuss this further while we go to see her." Treize had a ridiculous urge to make excuses for himself, but he didn't. There was nothing to be gained by explaining it to Anne again.

The way she smiled was brilliant, utterly pleased, so at least someone would be happy with this arrangement. "Thank you very much, Your Excellency."

It was the damndest thing; had she expected him to say no? He glanced at Wufei. "Coming with, or staying with your fellow pilots?" It wasn't right to assume that Wufei was going to fall in just because.

"Ah, I think I'll stay if you don't mind." That was fine. He wasn't obligated in any way.

"No, not at all." Wufei knew how bizarre a moment it might be, so Treize stiffened his metaphorical spine and gestured with his head to Une to lead the way.

"There's a car out front," she advised, matching her strides to his. "I know that you don't want to raise her yourself, and no one is going to judge you for that. You're a very busy man, and you didn't even know about her until quite recently."

"It would not be helpful circumstances to her." He was still aching from the battle the day before, but feeling lighter made it easier to move quicker; things were resolving, the world was coming together in some semblance of sense.

It hadn't formed the way he had thought it would. There were no more guarantees than there ever had been, but he felt settled for the first time in a long time. He was still more than capable of bringing things to fruition. He could still fight if need be.

Une smiled at him as they reached the front door and she held it open for him to pass through with regular clomp-clomp noises. "I'm sure you're right," she agreed. "And I think I can give her a stable home life."

"I think we can both agree that I can't give anyone that." And it was the easier explanation to settle on; not that he was too busy, that was wounding to a child, but that he was incapable of providing stability. 

He made his way down the stairs, heading toward the car Une had, and she held the door open for him, allowing him to settle in before she slipped in on the other side, the driver remaining in his seat. Probably on her orders to be honest, and she settled in that strange princess sort of posture, knees together, hands folded neatly in her lap. "She's quite bright, which is precisely what I would expect from any child of yours, sir."

It made him cringe inside as he held onto his crutches, watching her. "Let's... not, please. I believe you."

The smile dimmed on her face. "Of course. I thought you would like to know something about her."

"I." He pressed his lips together, and closed his eye for a moment. "I'm sorry. This isn't easy. I didn't mean it as it sounded. I'm looking forward to meeting her."

"It's all right if you don't want to. We can go back to the castle." The sheer understanding made him set his jaw and clench his teeth.

He shook his head. "No, let's see this through." Like it was a poorly made plan of attack to commit to, which perhaps it was. And the less he said, the less likely he was to clash horribly with her expectations of how things should be. Easier.

The ride was discomfortingly long, especially once the quiet settled between them. When they arrived, the driver got out as appropriate this time, opening the door for both of them. He got his crutches under him, and stopped for a moment, looking up at the building and remembered the last time, the panic and police around the place, when the air smelled like wind blown cordite and his own skin had smelled like sweat and blood and he'd been late. He'd been late getting there, and now he was late forever. 

"Hasn't changed much. They left the bullet holes in."

Une nodded, falling into step beside him as they entered the hospital lobby. "Yes, well. I think those are perhaps a bit newer, to be honest. Although certainly some of them may be; as you know, Sanc was generally left to rot, so even getting insurance and other normalities to work as it should was difficult, I expect."

"I remember." He located the stairs and started up them, letting memory fall away from reality after a moment of focus before he let her lead the way.

She didn't question him; she was too aware of his dislike of elevators and so she was patient with him on the way up, only pausing to quietly indicate that Mariemaia was on the fourth floor.

Of course she was. Still it was exercise, it was good for him, and he had certainly already gotten a work out that morning. They made it, and once they were on the fourth floor he let her lead the way to his daughter's door. That was never not going to be a surreal thought.

They were passed through to the step-down unit after Une spoke with the guard on duty. The doors clicked open and they made their way to the last room on the hall.

Une knocked on the door gently and pushed it open. "Hello, Mariemaia. I've brought your father to see you."

She was small, petite even for her age. He tried to remember his brother at eight, and he had been bigger. Her hair was the same color as his beard and she unquestionably had the family eyebrows.

"Mariemaia, Lady said you were feeling well enough for a visit. I heard you were very brave yesterday."

The face that turned toward him was faintly hopeful. He had sincerely prayed that she wouldn't look at him like that, and he panicked just a bit before she seemed to get that under control. "Hello, Father. Yes. I suppose I might have been. It hurts quite a lot, but then the nurse comes in and it doesn't anymore."

"The wonders of good painkillers. I'm familiar with them." He moved closer, standing there for a moment and assessing her as best he could -- like one of his young soldiers when he'd been nearly a child himself. "How are you feeling?"

She seemed to consider it for a long moment. "Like I've been shot."

Une coughed in order to hide a laugh.

He didn't bother hiding it, smiling. "You'll never forget the feeling, unfortunately. I don't recommend trying to refresh that memory by ever doing it again. How are you feeling about what happened before you were shot?"

Ah, there was what he'd expected. She looked away, bit her bottom lip. "I'm sorry that Grandfather is gone, but... nothing that happened was anything like he had said it would be. I think I'm glad that I don't have to do what he wanted me to do. I... I don't, do I?"

Une reached out, took her small hand. "No, Mariemaia. You don't."

"You don't," he agreed, leaning on his crutches in a comfortable way. "You need time to play and learn and not have to think about leading anyone into war."

It was a surprise, the little catch of her breath, the shiver she gave, and then there were silent tears slipping from her eyes, one hand placed over her mouth as if to stifle any sound, and he was furious that Dekim had done this to her, that anyone had done it to any of them.

He pushed back the memories, thoughts of horror, and shifted awkwardly closer to brush the back of one knuckle over her cheek. "It's all right to cry, and to feel sad and sick over this. It takes more strength to cry than to keep it in. I'm sorry this was done to you." Not happened, happened made it feel like it was the rain or something inevitable, and it shouldn't have been. It wasn't inevitable.

It was wrong.

It was so wrong and her hand fell from her mouth, the first sob breaking loud and fitful, and then she cried desperately, Une holding her. She wept until she exhausted herself and dozed off against Une's shoulder.

"Thank you for coming," Une finally whispered. One hand was petting the child's short hair gently. "I don't think she would have believed me if I said it was all right."

"She's very brave." Braver than he was. "Thank you for taking care of her. I'll make sure the appropriate paperwork is in place." That was what solicitors were for, their one blessed reason for existing on the planet.

"Thank you much." She paused, glancing down at the girl. "If you don't mind, I think I'll stay with her. I'm sure you're needed back at the castle."

"No, I'm not. They just want to tout a ridiculous victory for mediafeeds." He smiled at her and her posture; she was a natural at something that was broken in himself. "And I'm not needed here. Thank you, Lady. I know you'll take good care of her."

He didn't linger, just saw himself out past the guard. Heading down the stairs was a slow meditative process, and he enjoyed the tight ache across his back and shoulders by the time he reached the ground floor.

If he never set foot in that hospital again, it would be too soon.

* * *

The mountains in China were beautiful at that time of year. Even the smell was familiar, a reminder of home and childhood, a reminder of family. 

It had been two years since they'd fought off the forces of L3. They'd been rather good years, Treize slowly separating himself out from OZ until he'd finally handed everything over to Noin.

Everyone should have known when he'd started moving the headquarters to Bremen a year prior, out of Brussels. When the last obnoxious staffer departed, Treize had announced the retirement that personnel had already processed with a minimum of fuss, and ducked a party by boarding a plane with Wufei the next morning.

They didn't stop traveling for three weeks straight, a honeymoon of sorts of woods and rooftops, and one particularly dusty bar with too much sangria on a hiking trail in Spain that had overlooked the vineyards in a way that had caught his breath a little.

Of course the bastard enjoyed hiking.

He also had plans for when they returned to Brussels, and that was an exciting new venture. After all, they had plenty of skills between them, and using them to help promote and fundraise for resources to be provided to former child soldiers was exciting. Rich people liked masquerade balls, and a man who had arranged orgies could probably plan one hell of a party.

He could also arrange the monument in front of them, apparently, and he'd even managed to keep it a secret until now. "You're very good to me." If he sounded a bit choked up, well.

The arm behind his shoulders was firm, fingers rubbing at his shoulder. "Can't bring them back, but their memory in this world shouldn't be lost." The tall obelisk explaining what had happened at the site of that village was expected, borne in multiple languages like a Rosetta Stone. It used words that judged the previous regimes harshly, solid facts and figures, denunciation and truth balanced equally.

The bronze statues were unexpected, three families clustered, looking in the direction he knew, or felt like he remembered they had run from. One man's statue was turning away, as if he had worked out what was happening.

They were so familiar.

So familiar, and when he drew in a breath it shuddered and caught. He turned to Treize, both arms wrapping around him, face pressed against his shoulder. "Thank you." It took a moment to get control of himself, to sniff back the sudden bout of tears and let go of him. "Thank you," he said again, and he still sounded strained because he'd only seen pictures of his father over the years. He hadn't seen him in so long, and this was almost more than he could bear.

He moved closer, close enough to touch, saw his mother's face young and knew the child she had in her arms was him even if it didn't feel like him because he didn't see himself that way. But he knew his mother's face, and his father...

"The government held onto videos of political dissidents they collected while trying to..." Treize exhaled, shadowing him at a distance to let him have space. "Whatever lie they liked that week. He did everything a man in his position could have done."

There was no stopping the tears then, even though they were silent now, just leaking. So much detail, Meiran holding her grandmother's hand, her grandfather kneeling down to pick her up. He didn't recognize the ones with Mu Tsu because they'd all been dead by the time they'd made it to L5, but he knew him without question, his hair down to his waist already, glasses on top of his head, and his face...

Oh.

All of their faces.

For a long moment, he buried his face in his hands because he couldn't stop the tears, not standing there in front of them. Not seeing them. He was utterly overcome and sad and thankful that it was there and grateful that Treize was the kind of person who obsessed over details and had brought all of this together somehow.

Treize had stopped asking Wufei to be angry at him, but he hadn't let it go. Later, perhaps when they were home again, he would ask how and what, but for now he wept and Treize laid a hand on his back and let him grieve for the people he'd lost. 

When he finally did speak, it was soft. "The artist is a Nǚjié zú woman who would like to meet you tomorrow. If you're interested."

Wufei nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath. "Yes. Yes, please. And... thank you. I don't know what you did to make this happen, but thank you."

The hand on his back moved slightly, rubbing softly. "Mm, they need to be remembered. People are starting to discuss these things again, excavating their own histories."

He couldn't stop holding Treize, sniffing, then pressing his face against his shoulder. "It's just.. more than I ever thought they would have." It wasn't as though he could have buried them, any of them. Not his father, not the rest of his people. That hadn't been a gift he could give.

That was a gift that he hadn't known where to start, because it had been so overwhelming and he had been so young. Treize pressed a kiss to the side of his head, holding him. "I want to give you so much more." Not guilt, but something more useful.

Treize was a giver by nature; someone who wanted to please and who would move mountains and sacrifice himself without a second thought. Wufei had no idea how he'd managed to be so lucky when they'd all nearly lost everything only three years ago. "This means so much." He wanted to give back to him. He wanted more than anything to make Treize happy, but now wasn't the time to declare it. He'd rather wait and show him.

Showing was the best way, more reliable than words, longer lasting. There was a long list of things one couldn't talk a person into, and maybe love was one of those for Wufei. It felt like love, doing a thing like that.

After a long time, he pulled away, tilted his chin, and tugged Treize down to kiss him. They both had damp faces, and it didn't matter. "We should have a house here. Nearby." There was one in Brussels and one in England and one in Luxembourg where Treize refused to go, and that was all right. Some countries, it was better to go and enjoy a hotel stay, but Wufei wanted more than that here.

"Yes." There was work to be done in the area with the charities, the work that was being done for the child soldiers, and Treize rubbed idly at his back, touch as unsteady as Wufei felt. "We'll find home here."

At that, Wufei leaned into him, arms around his waist, and he was sure that Treize knew he was smiling. "I've already found home."

That got him a soft teasing tsk, but yes. Yes. Home wasn't a place, but the people. The people didn't always stay the same, but somehow he thought that Treize would always be home for him.


	3. Chapter 3

It had so far been just like most every day. He'd gotten out of bed at about seven because Wufei was tired from the night before, and because Wufei's cat was a terrible dancing queen who didn't understand sleeping in. Tristan would prowl his way up the bed every morning to sit on Wufei's head. Wufei would then mutter something incomprehensible, bat a hand at Tristan, and then roll over, pulling his pillow over his head. At that point, Tristan would do the appropriately logical thing and choose Treize's head for sitting.

Some mornings he managed to sleep through the face full of cat fur, but most mornings it woke up the dog from the end of the bed who then tried to lick the cat, Treize, Wufei, the pillow, the head of the bed, and on one memorable occasion that made Treize wonder about her intelligence, the bedside lamp.

It was a good routine, a quiet sort of life. And it had taken a long time to get there, to adjust his schedule over closer to Wufei's, to learn to rest. To balance the demands of estate management and charity work with needing to have structure that didn't collapse into 'work'.

Some things, on the other hand, were not an every day occurrence. After getting up and feeding their difficult children, he had walked Millay and let them back in upstairs where Wufei was just beginning to stir. Treize had told him that there were pastries and coffee in the kitchen and promptly abandoned him because he had Things to Do, which was not just like every day.

Mariemaia was coming to visit.

He was excited to see her, to hear how her final year of college was going, to have her in the house for a few days before she headed to spend the rest of her holiday in Sanc with Anne.

It was all of the best things about being divorced without ever having to go through the tedious paperwork parts.

The traffic at the airport was neither better nor worse than he had expected this time of year. There was a great deal of frustration for most people, he expected, but it wasn't his first time making this trip and it would not be his last.

He enjoyed parking his car, locking it up, and wandering over to the arrivals area. The weather was cold, delightful, and while he was about as observant of the religious aspects as a blind mole rat, he liked the spirit of the holiday season. People bustling through the airport were all just as happy and upbeat as he was, or worn out, or in a rush to get somewhere, and sometimes all three at once.

It was delightful to sit and watch humanity, peaceful and tired, roaming through the place while he waited to see his daughter. It had been such a strange thing to see her in hospital, to consider that he had a daughter. He hadn't known about her for a long time, and then he'd been in no position whatsoever to be a part of her life. Eventually, things had changed.

Life had stabilized. 

It had helped that she had gotten older, that he could interact with her without cringing inside. Eventually, she looked more like Vingt and less like their mother; the shock of red hair was still red, but something about her face was familiar. He'd never asked Anne what she had told Mariemaia, and he'd never tried to make an explanation for his behavior. Treize had managed what he could, supported her entirely with money, which was easy, and maintained more contact with her with each passing year. Her coming to stay in Luxembourg with them rather than them visiting her and Anne was... a step forward.

And like every step forward it could go horribly wrong, but he was hopeful.

"Hello, Father." Her greeting was less like other families from what he could tell; more reserved, and yet she did seem quite pleased to see him. "Delightful weather you're having. New Port City is having a strange little batch of warm weather."

He stood up, gave her a brief hug hello, and moved to walk with her to the luggage carousel. "Wufei swears he hates it, but I caught him up on the roof catching snowflakes yesterday. It's nice."

With a laugh, she took his arm, leaning into him, her coat draped over her other arm. "Sometimes I'm amazed at how adorable you are together, so I'm betting that you caught him because you'd gone up to build a snowman together."

He couldn't help but chuckle, and gave her a sideways grin. "No, it was to set up the heat lamp and bring up alcoholic hot chocolate. Peach schnapps in hot chocolate is quite good, and the view from the roof is perfect in a light snow."

She shook her head and smiled. "You'll have to make some for me later. Oh, there it is!" Her suitcase was a violently orange hard case, decorated with orange and red sparkly bits that she had decided she loved at thirteen.

He reached through the crowd to grab the suitcase and haul it out, pulling out the handle while she pulled on her coat and hat. "Got it. Is that everything?"

His own eyes looked back at him, a snappy sort of _Really?_ visible in them. "It's only a week and I don't need a ballgown, Father. Yes, that's all."

"I don't know. Wufei seems to require two suitcases regardless of where we're going or for how long, and Anne was just a terrible over-packer." He started to drag it along as they walked.

Mariemaia shrugged and tossed him a grin. "I have a sufficient amount of underwear and you have a washer. Presumably. Unless, of course, you send your laundry out. Which is possible knowing you but unlikely knowing Wufei."

"First floor, tucked under the kitchen counter." He noted it wryly, looking sideways at her as they stepped outside into the chill. "I can deny him nothing."

"There actually is a snow man on the roof, isn't there?" Yes. Well.

"You can't see it from the street, and the head fell off in the wind yesterday. Structural engineering issue. Snow is a terrible design medium." It was hard not to laugh as he said it, leading the way to where he'd parked.

His daughter threw back her head and laughed, delighted and beautiful simultaneously. "I knew it," she said. "Let's go home, Father."

"Millay will be happy to see you." The dog had seen her two or three times a year for the last three years, and every time they met again, Millay had the oddest obsession about sitting on Mariemaia's feet.

"She's such a sweetheart, and such a good therapy dog. How is Tristan? I've demanded my own Norwegian Forest cat for Christmas. We'll see how that works out. He's so... fluffy." And there was his car, neatly parked.

Low slung, red Alfa Romeo Gran Turismo Alleggerita, 205 edition. He popped the trunk to put her luggage in, and saw her eyeing the six point racing harness through the window. "I don't speed unless we get out to the mountains. I promise, I've been forbidden."

"Mhm." It was clear that she didn't believe a single word he said. "And you bought it in such a shiny candy apple red, too. What a shame. He has you lojacked, doesn't he?"

"He has, yes. After my last speeding ticket made the local news." Treize's mouth twitched a little as he closed the trunk. "Words were had about risk-taking behaviour."

"Which in your case amounts to foreplay," she teased, and thank god. Thank god his daughter was mostly grown and saying that. "And I expect you've done the same to his motorcycle."

There had been An Incident.

"I got him a Vespa for his birthday this year, and yes." Wufei had been wearing the appropriate gear and was mostly protected from having his flesh literally stripped from his bones when he'd had to swerve his motorcycle to avoid a car that braked too suddenly and had gone sideways under a big rig. "At least my risk has airbags."

Ah, that peal of laughter. It made him feel warm that his daughter was happy when she was with him. "You're both old enough to know better, you realize. Honestly, Father."

If nothing else, they were entertaining for her. "You'll get older and realize that being an adult is a lie."

"That's what Anne tells me, too." Mariemaia's voice was bland. "I never once had any doubts about it, though. I've seen you eat peanut butter and ice cream for breakfast."

That was the obvious wound that he had never addressed head on. He opened the car door, and slid in, still grinning a little as he started the engine up, watching her buckle into the harness. "I also know you don't approve."

"That's because it's disgusting, who eats that for breakfast?" The click of the harness sounded, and Treize promptly reversed from the space and then shifted into gear smoothly.

"I meant in a general sense. Anyway, the key is in melting the peanut butter before you drizzle it on the ice cream, so it creates a shell. And then go for a jog." He and Wufei were very good at keeping fit. The fact that sex counted as cardio was certainly high on their list.

The fact that Wufei still eyed pieces of furniture and asked if they'd been involved in any of the orgies did have quite a bit of amusement for him, though.

"Sometimes I need an adultier adult. And that is why I don't call you, I call Anne."

"I know." Emerging from the airport back onto the main road was a slow affair thanks to a couple of badly timed traffic lights, but all the clutch work kept his brain engaged. "I'm not going to be able to pretend to explain myself, maybe sometime this holiday I can catch you up on some family history, hand over the photo books, all of that..."

Mariemaia waved her hand. "I have all of the genealogy on my laptop. It's utterly boring, to be honest. Why is this interesting to anyone? I'm here, isn't that enough? Oh, look out, blue car in the left lane."

He swapped lanes quickly, running that over in his head a few times before he slipped back into traffic at a more normal speed. "All the genealogy, huh?"

"Father. There are so many repositories. I got curious once but then I got two generations back and it was all blood and death and boredom, and I had a date with a delightful young man with a tongue that..."

It was a shame that Wufei had taught him the art of handing someone a shovel and seeing where they'd dig. "Ah. So you read about where I had my younger brother lock a laser on my mech and fire on me to defend the moon base. Well, one does hate to be boring."

"Oh, no, no. That actually fell under _all the blood and death_ , I think." Mari smirked at him.

It wasn't a smirking matter for him, hadn't ever been, and he was so very glad to have gotten her away from that world. From the Bartons. He supposed that was what they all were, a decade away from war, a little flip commentary and forgotten because everything was okay. "It all makes it very hard to be the adultier adult."

Somehow, he was unsurprised when she placed her hand over his on the gear shift. "Father. It's all much better left behind. We're at peace now, and you're happy. I'm happy. Better we leave it where it lies, I promise."

"None of it actually goes away." And it tended not to lie quietly, but he took a deep breath and stayed where he was in traffic.

Her hand didn't move. "No, but we can live with it. And that's enough to be getting on with, don't you think?

"You haven't been... struggling, have you? Because madness damn near performs dressage on my half of the family. Vingt was quietly taking antidepressants by the time he was fifteen, mother lost touch with reality by twenty-one..." It was sort of a bad, worrying age, and he didn't mean to have that kind of conversation while driving, but it seemed easier when he didn't have to watch her face. Eyes on the road.

Her fingers folded over his. "No, Father. I haven't been struggling. Anne's had me in therapy since I was in hospital in Sanc, and I have to say that I do indeed recommend it."

"I worry. And, there are a couple of topics that I'm not sure I could survive digging up." He stretched his fingers beneath hers, flexing softly, and turned his head to scan the road properly as he slowed down again, and again, because they were entering the city center. "Now I'm curious what else you found on the genealogy sites." He had a firm lack of interest in looking up anything said about himself or Wufei, past or present. That was what lawyers were for, and Wufei if it were something particularly egregious, because Wufei did wonder sometimes.

"Death by tandem bicycle," she offered. "And we had a fellow on an obscure branch that was beatified by the Catholic church. Those are just the highlights for the things I found most amusing."

"Your great grandfather Cinquante would turn bright red with rage every time someone brought that up about his brother. The bicycle, right in New Port City, down in the old town." He wondered which of the Bartons had managed to set foot in a church without catching fire at the threshold.

"And that's just your side of the family. The Bartons are all... well. It mostly seems to be incest and clown porn." She snuck a look at him, mouth twitching.

Treize nearly choked, a weird feeling laugh escaping. He was fairly sure he was turning as red as grandfather Khushrenada. "No, unfortunately we hit incest, too. No clown porn, thankfully."

"Hey." Mariemaia smiled at him. "It's good to be home with you."

That was probably enough uncomfortable discussion for a year, he decided, easing down to a crawl of 25kmph as they got closer to the house. "It's very good to have you safe and here with us. You growing up is terribly stressful. Anne's banned me from having your boyfriends tailed."

His daughter hummed. "It's for the best. Otherwise I'd have to tell you all about Peter and Damiana, and I just don't think you're prepared."

"I could probably handle it." He shifted down to first, easing through the crawl of stopping for pedestrians. "Which one is more worrisome, the boy or the girl?"

"Oh, definitely the boy. Damiana is a delight, and they're both amazing in bed, so I'm glad I don't have to make a choice."

"You actually do not have to make the choice," he agreed, easing over a couple of last speed bumps that had been designed to wreck the beautiful undercarriage of his car. "As long as they make you happy."

"Mmm, I knew you'd say that. Anne says I don't have to make a choice, either. What do you think Wufei will say?" She raised her hand and put a finger on her chin. "He's always seemed a great deal more _one at a time_ to me."

"Wufei prefers monogamy. We discussed it at length before we got anywhere, so I do encourage talking a thing to death if it might be important. I haven't looked anywhere else since I met him. On the other hand... you can look up Prince Peacecraft in a history book sometime and you'll have your answer to why both Anne and myself were perfectly fine with threesomes." He pressed a button under the dashboard to open the big wrought iron gates as they pulled up.

"Oh, I've seen him. Not really my type, but I can certainly appreciate a pretty face." She raised both arms and stretched. "Ugh, such a long trip." Her gaze slid toward him. "He must be something if you've not strayed, though. Well. If any of my history courses are correct, in any case."

He did manage to smirk, then, putting away the bad memories as he parked the car, and unfastened the harness. "He is love itself to me. An orgy does not put up with one's weird broken shit."

And that made her smile, warm and soft and sweet. "I'm so happy for you, Father."

"And despite that, he's still bitter about the Vespa, so I wouldn't mention it or ask about his last bike." He exhaled as he stood up, taking a moment to look around before he hauled her suitcase out of the trunk.

"Roger that." Mariemaia looked up at the house and shook her head. "I will never understand how you both rattle around in such a large house all day."

"Happily. When Wufei ended up in my custody, I had OZ headquarters on the first three floors and he was so offended by basically living in a conference center. So very offended." It left him smiling fondly up at the building's facade, before he started up the stairs.

"But don't you still run charity offices out of it?" She was right behind him.

"Next door," he said pointing to the building on the left. "Used to house OZ intelligence and communications. Wufei wanted to be able to walk to the kitchen in his pajamas without some diplomat leering at him." Some days, mostly after he'd dusted his hands of it entirely, he had realized how much of his own money he had sunk into running OZ in that last year of the wars, as investments had recovered to be folded into portfolios and trusts for Mariemaia's future and the charities.

He hadn't been all that fond of diplomats leering at Wufei, either.

The door pushed open easily, three hundred pounds that swung silent in perfect balance. Wufei never worried much about locking them when he was home alone and on the first floor so he was very likely in the library.

The soft skittering of claws on the floor agreed with that, and Treize waited for Millay to come running across the floor into his legs, panting and excited and well trained enough not to jump as Treize crouched down to run his hands through. soft fur and get greeted. "Good morning, who's a good girl? I wasn't even gone long, have you been sad and unloved? Yes, you're the saddest dog in the world."

Millay barked, the excitable bark that meant that she had missed him, and then promptly leaned up to rub her wet nose against his cheek.

"She's always like this when he goes out," Wufei advised from the library door. "It's as if the sun has gone from the sky and ne'er will rise again. Hello, Mariemaia."

"Hello, Wufei. How is Tristan?"

He waved a hand, and Treize wondered if the little exposure she'd had to him had inclined her to make similar motions because she certainly had in the car. "Asleep on the settee, making a ridiculous adorable wheeze from the position."

"I'll drag your luggage upstairs," Treize grinned, hugging his delightful, overly dependent Tervuren one more time before slapping his hands on his knees. "C'mon!"

Which quite promptly had Millay dancing this way and that in front of him and then racing for the stairs with an undeniable enthusiasm. Mariemaia laughed behind him, and parted ways because Tristan was in the library, and she adored him.

He'd reminded her repeatedly that he had literally fished the kitten out of a bush near a city park, but she seemed determined to imagine he was a purebred rather than the massive, huge nosed offspring of a local feral colony. 

Treize lugged her luggage up to the third floor, grinning as Millay bounced left then right, all ready with play pose and clearly wanting to wrestle the rope for a while.

By the time he made it back downstairs, Wufei and Mariemaia were in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee brewed, and Tristan was sitting in a chair as though it belonged to him. "That didn't take long. Rope's over there," Wufei pointed.

"Thank you." He grabbed it from the counter, and crouched down while Millay grabbed the other end in a fierce excited grip. "I suppose the first question is how tired are you after your flight?" Millay growled playfully and braced her paws, tugging with powerful motions of her head.

"Oh, I'm fine. I got at least a half hour nap, and honestly, I can still pull all nighters without needing even that, so I should be good."

He supposed she'd gone to New Canada for school to get the most varied experience possible, and to be as far away as possible from both Anne and himself, but it had done her a world of good. She'd grown up so much being out on her own. "I'll let you get away with that until jet lag kicks in."

Mariemaia laughed, delighted. "Oh, I am reliably informed that once that happens, I am either highly amusing or, and I quote, Satan on a stick. Could go either way."

Across the table from her, Wufei nodded and sipped from his cup. "Hm, I do become rather unreasonable when I've been awake too long."

Treize gave up, and sat on the floor, still giving Millay a challenge with the rope pull, yanking her gently forward and then letting her have some play. "Thailand last year, Wufei. Thailand."

Wufei shrugged. "You've always known I'm not a morning person. It should be absolutely no surprise that I utterly melted down in the face of a missed connection, the lack of transport, and the missing luggage."

"I found the best little pumpkin cakes and tea, and really, the transit strike only lasted another six hours, and we were on our way." He looked at Mariemaia with a sly curl of his mouth. "Museums, and we irresponsibly pump you full of coffee until you have to pass out, or? Shopping? Is it ill advised to shop on jet lag?"

"Museums," she chose. "They have gift shops, which will be delightful, and I will spend all of your hard earned money on them."

"That doesn't seem unreasonable," Wufei murmured. "More coffee before we go, then?"

"Yes, please."

With a nod, Wufei rose. "I'll fetch Millay's things while your father fixes coffee to go."

"Right. Coffee to go, coming up." He reached to stroke behind Millay's ear, and she let go of the rope, leaning into him firmly while he petted her for a moment before standing up. Wufei had insisted, after... probably more than enough time with him, after enough incidents, to see about getting a psychiatric service dog. She could even signal to him when he needed to take his anti-anxiety meds because he was spiraling. He had struggled with the visibility of such a decision, because he'd been raised not to talk about such things.

And that was half the problem, wasn't it?

There were undoubtedly a number of veterans who had been raised to believe one did not discuss one's emotional state or impairment. Pretend it wasn't there for long enough and the screaming nightmares didn't exist and that drinking that much scotch on the regular was just fine, though, and things went... Well.

So Wufei had suggested the dog. It had opened up several suggestions, and that was when they had decided that running a charitable organization for helping veterans adjust to life after war was something that would keep them both occupied. Making themselves visible reminders of both halves of the war certainly hadn't hurt anything, either.

Working together, clearly living together, and then married. There had been a lot of questions, mostly wondering what the fuck Chang Wufei has been thinking, which Treize rather agreed with. No one looked at the two of them and asked what Treize Khushrenada had been thinking. By now, Wufei had a lot of answers down pat -- mysterious smiles, small and lingering, the clear reply that he had been treated entirely as an equal once he had been released from direct imprisonment into Treize's care, that as aide de camp he felt secure arguing with Treize and putting his foot down, that Treize had no intention whatsoever of making any overtures toward him until Wufei had made them himself. Then he would laugh and look to the side slyly and say that it certainly didn't hurt that he was so incredibly handsome.

It was a damn good thing his ego could stand up to that. And that Wufei meant it. "Two sugars? We have... oat milk." He stood in front of the fridge in some mild surprise.

"He says that as if it's a surprise," Wufei offered, coming back in with Millay's vest and leash. "I despise regular milk."

"Hmn, does this taste good?" He was used to almond, but it seemed to pour about the same, once he'd given it a shake.

"I'm glad that the kitchen still seems a surprise to father," Mariemaia remarked, leaning against the countertop to watch, staring at the coffee machine.

Wufei hummed in agreement. "So is the washing machine. His nights for cooking generally involve takeaway."

"For which you are infinitely grateful." A couple of button presses, and the coffee maker began to grind the beans, which would shortly create espresso shots, all in one machine. It was glorious, and an engineering project in itself to clean once a month.

"For which I am indeed infinitely grateful," Wufei replied. "Cheese toasties, up in flames. Quite literally. How does someone even do that?"

He started to chuckle, leaning his elbows on the counter. "I can repair a mech -- No one taught me how to cook, and we've had servants forever. It certainly wasn't the toaster's fault, I did check."

"And at the very least, Trevelyan's wife still supplies us with pastries aplenty." Wufei had something of a love affair with the pastries, in fact. He'd gained fifteen pounds when he'd first lived there, and now strictly rationed himself, looking longingly at them some days. Treize didn't mind the extra fifteen pounds. It had actually been quite nice, but Wufei had issues entirely separate from Treize's. Apparently, gaining weight had been obsessively discouraged when he'd been piloting. The Gundams had quite a significantly different standard for mech piloting, which certainly explained how thin most of them had been. Treize just hadn't realized how they'd been conditioned regarding it.

He'd gotten his hand slapped more times than he could count for lingering a little long on the occasional suggestion of anything other than lean muscle on the other man's body. So he'd started to go jogging with Wufei, and practicing fencing with him and now it was something he sort of side eyed. "I'm glad they've started the shop."

"Mmm, yes." Yes, and he did get a little gooey eyed over them before sighing and shaking his head. "Come here, Millay. We'll get you settled."

She settled at his feet, posing well for her vest to be put on while Treize handed a coffee to Mariemaia. "Enough coffee in there?"

"It'll do," she replied, and then took a long swallow. "Mmm, you still make the best coffee."

Considering it was the only kitchen appliance that he seemed to be able to handle, it had certainly better be.

He made a second one for himself, and saved the last for Wufei so he could have the hottest drink, passing it over without comment as he moved to take Millay's leash. The museums were close, and it made for a nice walk on familiar streets.

"So are you ready for Christmas morning?" Wufei asked. It was a fairly standard holiday on the European continent, and Treize had always celebrated it, so Wufei went along with it. They also celebrated Wufei's holidays, though, and that was nice, too.

"Father, did the boxes arrive?" She was looking at him expectantly as they all pulled on their coats and hats and gloves.

"Not yet. The post says it should be tomorrow. Now I'm curious." He sipped his own coffee, and deemed the oat milk possibly the most acceptable of Wufei's health fads.

"No point being curious about it at all, I'll accept delivery and wrap them on my own. Just so that I can be sure you don't cheat." She was teasing, of course. Wufei might, but Treize quite enjoyed the surprise of a thing.

"I won't cheat." He slung an arm around Wufei, and leaned in to kiss his temple briefly, before they made it out the front door. "Yours are well hidden."

"As are mine." Wufei sighed. "He knows I like to peek."

Mariemaia laughed and reached out for a hand from both of them. "Come on. Show me the way to your favorite museums."

He did lock the door that time. The sky was clear, and the wind wasn't bad at all, and Mariemaia was smiling as they stepped past the gate and down the street.

Treize knew he was very lucky to have the life he had.

* * *

Morning had, as always, come with the joy of Tristan sitting on his head. All things considered, it was fairly typical of days, except for the fact that this time he actually got up when it happened.

The rest of the day had been less than typical, mostly because he had spent it consulting cookbooks and roasting a goose. Christmas Eve was considered the more important time to celebrate together according to Treize, and so they did. Wufei let him deal with the human element and the presents.

At least one of them had to be a reasonably adept person in regards to the food. Well, that or he supposed they might have ordered in, except he had issues with that. Therefore Wufei was in the kitchen.

"You're not barefoot and pregnant, are you buddy?" Duo's voice was warm, good to hear while he was leaning against the door.

Death. Taxes. Duo.

"Yes," Wufei replied, the bland tone easy as he finished peeling a pear. "Clearly I am both." Well, he wasn't wearing shoes, but they didn't wear shoes in the house. Socks, yes, slippers, on occasion, but outside shoes went in the foyer closet. "Heavily pregnant."

"Christ, now I'm thinking about horse cocks." Duo wandered in closer, to grab a bit of peel from the brown paper bag he was putting them in. "So what're you making?"

"Not horse cocks." And what the hell could even prompt that thought, anyway? "Roast goose with a pomegranate glaze, almond-pomegranate pilaf, roasted acorn squash, glazed carrots, and garlic mashed potatoes." There was a very good reason they had a double wall oven. "And baked pears with honey and walnuts." Those were already prepared and waiting to be baked. He was peeling pears just so that he could sit and eat the slices. 

"That sounds... amazing and excessive. How did you do that?" He reached for a slice.

He shrugged and began placing slices on the plate between them. "Looked up recipes. It seems to be quite an important holiday for them, even if Dorothy and Treize are the only family members still dealing with one another." There were a couple of other living members of the family, but no one seemed to be on speaking terms.

Like the ongoing miracle that his stepfather was somehow still alive and thoroughly shunned. "It is. Dorothy talks about the big huge events her father used to host -- fancy dress balls, fully insane rich people shit, you know? Except we do that for work, so it's not a fun holiday event anymore."

With a snort, Wufei sliced another piece of pear and popped it into his mouth. "I don't know. We hire caterers for those and the charity takes care of the more annoying bits, so I rather enjoy them. All we have to do is show up and waltz at least once."

"You probably look as lovely in your dress as Dorothy does in hers," Duo smirked, stealing another piece. "So this is super low key compared to that. Mariemaia got tall."

"Ass. And we both know who wears the pants between the two of you, after all." It was not Duo. "She did, didn't she? Quite lovely, too, but she had fortunate genetics in regards to beauty, so it can't have been unexpected." She was taller than either Duo or Wufei, only a couple of inches shorter than Treize, in fact.

She was gorgeous, and Treize had expressed some relief that as she got older she looked much more like Vingt and the men of the Khushrenada line. Which would have been a strange thing to wish on anyone, but they were very pretty people. "Popular with the eh. People?"

Wufei shot him a look. "At least as popular as her father, and that's saying something." Orgies. He was sure Duo knew about the orgies.

Who didn't know about the orgies, Wufei wondered occasionally, except Treize was in bed with him every night barring travel, and usually he was on the phone with him in the evening then. "Yeah, I just can't do that."

With a shrug, Wufei pushed a container of almonds toward Duo. "Nor can I, but I have no objections to anyone else doing as much." Well. Except for Treize, because Treize was _his_.

Treize was useless in the kitchen, but excellent in so many other ways, even if just now that was staying out from under foot. Duo grabbed a handful. "Yeah. Kinda jealous, but also eh, one person is a lot of effort to begin with, even if she is hot."

"Also crazy." Wufei was absolutely certain that pegging was on her list of excellent ways to spend an afternoon. There had been An Incident. He had learned far too much. "But pots, kettles."

"Oh yeah." Duo tossed an almond into his mouth, and narrowly managed to catch it. Wufei felt Tristan wind around his ankles. "You're going to hide in here and enjoy the silence, aren't you?"

"As if you'd expect any different. I can meditate if you feel that you've been missing out on our general quietness quotient for the year." And if he happened to smirk about it, well.

"I'm okay with it; Dorothy is secretly quiet as hell at home. How do you manage? He's chatty," Duo said, gesturing outside the kitchen door.

Wufei continued peeling and slicing pears. "We have excellent conversations about many things. One on one conversation is, I assure you, quite a different thing than dealing with multiple people. Also..." He smirked. "He's less of a pain in the ass than you are."

He could just about feel Duo's smile, while Tristan tried to force his way up onto his lap beneath the table. "Yeah, yeah, you totally miss me. You miss blowing shit up."

It was no surprise when Tristan made it up and butted his head against the bottom of the table, trying to make it into the nonexistent space between it and Wufei's body. He had been prepared. "Well. Perhaps. Blowing up shit does have its delights."

He still ended up with the cat trying to squish itself forcefully between his knees, claws skittering. He was simultaneously the sweetest, prettiest, smartest, dumbest cat ever to exist. "Sometimes I wish Dorothy was into pets. But I do get explosives, so you win some, you lose some."

"Could be worse. She could let you have explosive pets. I'm pretty sure those were a thing back in the day." Talk about animal cruelty. Ugh.

"Wait, what? How is this a thing and I didn't know? Hey, do you want a drink? Or at least water?" Duo stood up, and the motion of a suddenly empty chair appeased the dumb cat gods.

"Sure. There's wine chilling in the corner and there are glasses in the cabinet above it." Tristan mewed and had all four paws on the table in a blink. "Get off the table, Tristan."

The cat peered at him, tilted its head to the side, sat down, and licked a paw.

"Excellent. Dorothy was dragging Mariemaia through the family photos on her datapad, and at no point in history has anyone told these people that cravats went out of style." Duo rummaged the wine out of the ice, inspected it as if he wouldn't drink something that had just finished filtering through a warm sock, and then grabbed the glasses.

"Well, obviously they didn't. I assure you that I have seen Treize wearing one and I cannot say that it is anything but delightful." Also, the things he did with it afterward were... well. Definitely the cravat led to a number of his favorite nights.

It made a lovely, strong binding, long and thick enough, soft enough to suit a purpose without being overbearing or setting him off the way something thinner like a necktie might. They had worked at everything in bed with care, slowness, attention to detail. 

Duo poured two glasses, handing one to Wufei. "Dorothy got to her parents and Treize's family, and then the dog started prancing for a walk. I figured it was time to bail and let the women talk."

Wufei wondered if his insistence on making jokes about femininity came from his upbringing on L2. Probably it was so. Meiran might well have taken off his head if he'd made jokes about someone wearing a dress or letting the women talk. "Probably for the best," he decided to reply instead. "That's an entire ball of wax that no one wants to know anything about, I assure you."

"Dorothy talks about her father like he was god. Treize's predecessor. Sounded like he sort of loved all those kids like a parent. Man had a hell of a beard. I dunno. Family shit makes me morose. How about you?" Duo sat back down in his chair, leaning an elbow on the table to pet the cat while he sipped wine.

"No. Just makes me sad. Lonely." Which wasn't unreasonable, all things considered. No one would have been able to pry that out of him with sharp blades a decade ago, but he and Treize dealt well together and spent a significant amount of their time working through things, so he didn't feel ashamed to say it aloud.

"Yeah." Duo scritched the bridge of Tristan's nose, staring intently at him, mouth pulled sideways wicked and crooked. "Lonely. I always think about everyone I've lost."

Tristan arched his neck and gave a tiny mew of sound that was out of place from a cat of that size. "I generally don't think about it very much," Wufei advised. "On the whole, I prefer to concentrate on day to day life."

"Which is pretty fucking good, yeah?" He grinned sideways at Wufei, and Treize came past, snow clinging to his jeans up to his knees, leaning in the door. 

"Do you remember where I stuck the new tennis balls? The last old one's gone over the fence and it's far too late to bother the neighbors." Treize looked... okay. Flustered by whatever it had been that had sent Millay into distract mode, but okay.

"Come kiss me. I demand a sacrifice for knowledge," Wufei declared, and waited until Treize came further in, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. When they parted, he smiled. "Check the foyer closet. Upper shelf."

"Right." He leaned in to kiss Wufei again, soft and slow, tucking loose hair fluff behind Wufei's ear before he pulled back. "Thanks. Maybe another fifteen minutes, just trying to wear her out." 

Then he left, and tracked his snow with him back to the foyer, Millay skittering along softly behind him. 

Duo sighed wistfully. "Pretty fucking good."

"Yeah," Wufei agreed, smiling at him. "It is. I'm always amazed at the people who ask questions about why I'm here. It should be obvious, I would think. Are things okay with you?"

"Generally, yeah. Nothing new; I have a massive chip on my shoulder, she's oblivious and weirdly rich, we clash over shit that surprises both of us." He had a sly curve of his mouth. "She's not gonna say shit until like eight months, but rumor has it we might've managed to spawn."

"Holy shit." Wufei blinked and then blinked again because that. That was actually terrifying. "Someone should advise the Catholic church."

Duo's grin was hard to suppress. "Shhhh. The Catalonia Khushrenada family is fucked up about kids. I'm banned from saying shit because..." Duo trailed off as he watched Treize and the dog, and a bouncing tennis ball pass by on the way to the backyard, loitering and waiting for an extra couple of beats. "Apparently her aunt Angelina had some horrifying miscarriage when Dorothy was like five at some family ball, and it scarred her for life. She is doing Everything Right, nothing risky."

That was understandable. Something like that was usually quite traumatic. He expected it was the sort of thing that would scar someone for life, particularly a female someone. "Well, congratulations." He slid the plate of pear slices closer to Duo. "I still think someone should advise the Catholic church. The God of Death and Chaos is multiplying."

"Shhh. We'll include them in the birth announcements, but not a moment before, or if something goes wrong, it will absolutely be my head. I shouldn't have even told you, but man. I'm gonna burst if I don't tell someone. And you get it. The level of fucked up. I mean, I had the, the whole..." He gestured with a pear slice. "Talk about genetics and shit with her, but you can't talk to anxiety."

"Tell me about it." Wufei glanced over at the kitchen window. "I think he'll be happy whenever she tells him. Although if she isn't drinking, he'll know immediately."

"Oh yeah." There was a thoughtful look on his face, as he gently drummed two fingers on the tip of Tristan's nose. "What do you think, buddy? Cat's probably out of the bag, then. Well. Wanna know what ridiculous shit you're getting for Christmas?"

"No, I actually enjoy the surprise of it. Don't tell Treize; I make an effort to discover whatever it is that he's giving me but it's never a real effort." Treize was far more patient about things and he enjoyed it when Wufei tried to find out. Wufei enjoyed the fact that he enjoyed it, so. It all worked out well in the end.

"That's weird and sweet. I just can't keep shit secret from her, which for a spy, pisses me off. It's like, oh, from the cant of your hips while you carry that bag, I can tell that it's the shoes I was looking at four months ago."

Wow. "Yeah, he does that sort of thing, too, now and again. It's creepy and weird and also somehow funny." Of course, it was probably a particular set to Wufei's eyebrows that indicated whatever it was.

Treize spent a great deal of time studying Wufei's face, watching and reading his expression, taking cues. "I'm always trying to up my game, throw her off the scent. Man, and if there's two of them, I'm gonna be outnumbered soon."

"Or she will be. Demon spawn," Wufei shrugged, and then grinned at him. "So both of you would be happy about that."

"Yeah." He grinned, and tried to catch a cashew in his mouth after throwing it into the air. "Holy shit, I'm gonna be a dad."

"Holy shit. You're gonna be a dad," Wufei agreed, and smiled at his friend. It was good to see the people he loved happy. Life was good. It wasn't what he'd planned growing up, but it was better than it could have been at a few points in his life. 

The oven timer went off, and Wufei rose to check on the goose. It smelled fabulous and most of the other things were under control. Dinner would start within the hour, so he pulled it out and began working on the other things. "I'd ask you to set the table, but I'm pretty sure we'd end up eating with our fingers since you have no idea where things are." It was mostly meant as teasing.

"I can get fancy out of the back yard," Duo said, gesturing with his thumb and half standing up.

"Probably the best idea." Millay would have settled him down somewhat by now, and setting the table was fairly task oriented so he shouldn't go off kilter again. "He'll know where the dishes and silverware are." He also had encyclopedic knowledge regarding which various forks and knives to use when with a degree of manners that could pass muster with royalty. 

Duo headed to the backyard, and left Wufei with the rather enjoyable task of tenting the bird with foil so it could rest. If it tasted half as good as it smelled, he had scored an amazing success.

Quickly, Wufei began throwing together the rice, sautéing onions in butter and then added rice to coat it before adding chicken stock. While that came to a boil, he chopped almonds and apricots and fresh thyme. Everyone was going quite well, and peeking in at the roasted acorn squash proved that it was well on its way. He decided that now was the time to put in the pears and adjusted the temp before removing their covering and sliding them inside.

Millay stopped in the doorway on the way past long enough to give a curious wuff at the smell of goose, and then carried on obediently after her person. Tristan was the real threat there, sitting on the table looking prim and unsuspicious while Wufei bustled around the kitchen, turning the rice to low once it had boiled, lid on firmly. Someone had put on music, the volume low, and he could hear Dorothy laughing in the dining hall.

He had once implied to Meiran that cooking wasn't work for men and found himself quite firmly informed otherwise. Not only had he been Informed, he had also been told he'd be cooking for himself if that continued to be his opinion. As a result, he'd found that he quite liked to cook, at least on occasion. There was something enjoyable about it, and he caught himself humming about the time that arms slipped around him. "Hello."

"Hi." He enjoyed leaning back against Treize, the way the man wrapped around him with precision, one arm loose around his chest, the other lower, fingers settling at Wufei's belt line. "It smells wonderful in here."

When he leaned his head to the side, he got a kiss against his cheek and then another against his jaw. "Everything's almost done."

Treize's mouth was warm, lingering, and he gave a contented sigh against Wufei's skin. "How can I help?"

"Check the ovens and put everything on serving platters? I have most of them ready." Because the presentation was also quite nice when the opportunity was there.

"I can do that." He kissed the side of Wufei's neck one more time, and pulled away slowly. "Thank you. I sometimes don't think I thank you enough for what you do."

Ah, he hated Treize pulling away, he did. "Hm. Nor I you, but this you don't have to thank me for doing. We could have ordered in, I just felt like cooking."

It was at least partially true. For the most part. Putting together an impressive meal now and again was quite fun, and if it also happened to make it obvious that Treize hadn't married poorly, well. That was just an additional benefit.

Every once in a while, he understood, just a little, what Duo meant when he said he had a chip on his own shoulder. Earth aristocracy were so much more highbrow than the colonies, and every once in a while it was enjoyable to show off for Dorothy and Mariemaia.

"Mmm. Felt like cooking an entire goose." Treize started to check the ovens, pulling out side dishes with care, and the proper serving dishes.

Checking the rice, he eyed it and thought it needed another few minutes. "That is what you said was traditional, is it not?" Wufei shrugged. "They're your traditions, I thought you might like following them, so."

"No, it's terribly traditional. And so is bringing help in to do this." He could almost hear the amusement in Treize's voice as he shifted the squash with an eye to presentation.

"It's a holiday for everyone. No point. Plus, there are only five of us here," Wufei pointed out, turning on the glazed carrots to warm on the back burner. He turned off the rice and moved it from the eye, preparing to fluff it and mix in the remaining ingredients. The garlic mashed potatoes would probably need a few minutes in the microwave to make sure they were sufficiently hot since he'd made those earlier.

It wasn't that Treize wasn't helpful; he was always first up to wash and dry the dishes, but other than coffee, sandwiches, and cocktails there had clearly been a... lack of education. He had once absently microwaved a bowl with a fork in it, realized what had happened two seconds too late to stop it, and had laughed so hard there had been tears running down his face.

Which did mean that he approached the microwave with the wariness one gave to a seasoned opponent while Wufei worked on the rice. It was half the reason that Wufei enjoyed him helping in the kitchen. The sheer delight of Treize eyeing various kitchen gadgets as though one of them might come alive never did fail to make Wufei smile. "Thank you for thinking of that."

"Do you want me to turn the pears down and leave them on warm?" He pressed buttons on the microwave with excessive care.

"Yes, please. There's extra cinnamon honey to put on them later." The rice was ready and he quickly moved it into a serving bowl, stirring the carrots gently as they re-heated. "I think we're mostly ready."

"I'll start carrying the food out and will herd the cats." He started with the mashed potatoes, safely in his hands and not in an exploding microwave.

Wufei would always find that amusing.

"I'll be right behind you," he promised, beginning to dish the carrots into a bowl.

It only took a few minutes for him to have everything ready to go and to the dining room. Treize was quite good at the herding, and considering the people who were there, well.

Every last one of them was distractible to the extreme, and Duo seemed to be trying to dance with Millay, who no doubt thought it was a long con for treats. Dorothy's smile was wide, wildly so.

"I swear there was only one glass of wine. It isn't my fault that he's drunk enough to dance with the dog," Wufei offered, putting down the goose.

"Oh, there were shots of schnapps in the parlor before that," Treize offered, pulling a chair out for Mariemaia out of habit.

She glanced back over her shoulder as she seated herself. "Thank you, Father."

"Of course there were." Wufei wondered how many they'd all had. Probably a sufficient amount that he should be unsurprised by anything that got said during dinner.

It was no wonder Treize had been losing tennis balls over the wall again. His smile was sly enough to tell Wufei it hadn't been an ungodly amount, at least. Not by Khushrenada standards, and Mariemaia was still on her feet, but again, he wondered how much of that was pure genetics rather than built up tolerance. 

The music, old carols in a language Wufei didn't know and sung at such a pitch that it was unrecognizable, made a pleasant background noise as everyone started to sit down.

"So," Dorothy began, eyeing him. "I see you've quite the little helpmeet, Treize. Everything looks scrumptious." That look implied she might be capable of eating all of it herself. All things considered, she might well.

"Which is why I think the honour of carving the goose should go to Wufei," Treize said, standing up to offer him the knives.

Ah, he did love sharp objects. He was fairly certain everyone at the table had the same love of sharp objects that he had, for that matter. "Thank you."

Wufei caught sight of Treize from the corner of his eye, watching him with intense, familiar fondness that warmed him immensely while he went about the task of cutting.

"Mariemaia, were you planning to attend graduate school?" Dorothy asked casually, some continuation of an earlier conversation.

"I'm having some difficulty deciding precisely where. Anne would love for me to return to New Port City, but New Canada has been so delightfully bizarre. There's also Oxford, of course. Damiana's father teaches literature there, and has _Opinions_ as to what is or is not important, and no school is better than Oxford. Naturally. And of course there's Université Libre de Bruxelles." Her glance slid toward Treize as if to gauge his reaction.

"Which, as a scientific research university, has turned out twenty five Nobel prize winners." He was smiling at her when he said it, "No pressure if you do pursue a research avenue."

"Pffft." She smiled at him. "I'll have one. I will."

"And you'll also have roast goose, so here you are. Ladies first." Wufei already knew Mariemaia's favorite bits. While Treize had been a bit more drunk uncle than full time father, they'd grown closer as she'd grown older and that meant she'd been around often enough for him to have become familiar with her likes and dislikes. She despised beets.

"Wherever you go, you will light the world on fire." He would have been delighted to have her in their city, to see her more often than a video call every couple of weeks, some messages, and a once or twice a year trip in either direction. But Wufei knew he also wasn't one to put pressure on a decision like that. Graduate school, that was a luxury that had been hard to have access to only a decade earlier. Very few of them had dreamed of such a thing.

Duo snickered. "But hopefully not literally. I mean, we've all got a fondness for fire here, some more than others." His gaze pointedly swung toward Wufei. "But yeah, kiddo. You'll be great."

"With or without incendiary devices, yes, but I thought you were staying with the social sciences, and they only fall back to actual fire in times of unrest." Treize carried on blithely, getting up while Wufei finished providing everyone with a perfect looking moist goose. He poured the wine and water where appropriate.

It felt a little ridiculous, his urge to prove himself to the erstwhile in-laws. Particularly when one of them was Duo. On the other hand, he felt accomplished and a little bit smarmy because it was perfect and delicious.

Dorothy cleared her throat. "Well. I would like to propose something of a toast, I suppose. To us. For making it this long and still being together."

"To beating the odds." Treize lifted his glass in agreement, looking between his cousin and Duo, and then to Wufei.

"To beating the odds," Wufei agreed, and they all seemed a little overwhelmed and a bit maudlin, but it was Christmas. What better time was there for those two emotions? Particularly given Dorothy and Treize, who could muster it pretty easily without a particularly family oriented holiday involved. 

"Is.... is that the dog's tail hitting my feet?" Duo asked after a moment. 

Treize dropped a hand beneath the table. "Yes. I'll get her to move a little."

"Watch out for Tristan," Mariemaia advised. "He'll claw his way up your leg and make himself a terrible nuisance trying to get on the table even though he knows he isn't supposed to."

"Cats can't be trained, they can only train us to respond to their negative stimulus." 

"I totally pegged you for a cat owner. Like white Persian, perched primly on your lap," Duo said, reaching into the carrots. "Wufei, too. Goes with the too cool for school posture. I kinda like this monster, though."

Dorothy gave a snort, inelegant and amused. "Good heavens, no. Can you imagine the sheer amount of white fur all over... well, everything?"

"It's true," Wufei agreed. "Besides, I'm quite fond of my garbage cat."

And then said garbage cat launched itself into Mariemaia's lap, between her legs and the table, from the way she went 'oof!'

Garbage cat, indeed. "Garlic mashed potatoes?" he asked her, and passed them her way.

"Thank you." She scooted her chair out as she leaned forward to take them, and the cat materialized on her lap, looking greedily up over the edge of the tablecloth.

"Down, Tristan, you demon cat." For all the good that might do. He did poke his head back down, though, and at least pretended that he wasn't planning his assault on someone's plate.

Probably Mariemaia's plate, as she was petting him while he pretended to settle. "You're right on the hair front. The last presser you made me go on," Treize said, clearly directed at Dorothy, "the photographer kept threatening me with the lint roller."

She had a piece of goose stabbed with the tines of her fork and it was clear that she was contemplating whether to reply now or after she'd eaten it. "I did warn you. I said, _Treize, you should pick up your things from the dry cleaner on the way, not beforehand._ "

"This is historically what has passed for a warning in our family," Treize offered as a faux aside to Mariemaia, "and god help you if you fail to parse out the five other layers of meaning. You show up to a room full of cameras covered in dog hair."

"I would say there were worse things, only I am fairly certain that is a faux pas of epic proportions," Mariemaia told him cheerfully. "Wufei, the rice. Tell me you'll make it again before I leave."

Looking up from his own plate, he nodded. "If you like."

With a hefty sigh and a roll of her eyes, Dorothy laid down her fork. "Fine, Duo. I can see that you're literally two seconds from exploding. And I'd lay fair odds Wufei already knows, anyway."

"Do you know how _hard_ it is to keep this a secret?" Duo exhaled, slouching slightly in his chair. "Dorothy's pregnant. We did it!"

"And frequently enough for it to catch, too," Wufei remarked, smirk spreading.

Mariemaia had given a little gasp, her hands held together now beneath her chin. "Oh, I'm excited for you!"

"I did wonder why you weren't imbibing." Treize grinned, eating a bit of his goose. "Congratulations to you both."

Which of course meant that he had noticed and that he had already made assumptions.

"Yes, well. We weren't going to make any announcements, but Mister Man here, despite being a spy, cannot keep a secret for more than three days." Her eyes rolled.

"I'm excited!" Duo protested.

"You should be excited," Treize encouraged, taking a swig of his wine. "I can't imagine what kind of chaos this will cause, and I'm delighted to watch."

Wufei snorted. "We'll all be highly entertained, no doubt. I should warn you, I do not volunteer to change diapers."

"Aw, man." Duo leaned back, sighing. "I'm even excited about that. It's kind of gross."

"Wouldn't even know where to start," Treize shrugged, voice sounding bright and pleased. "I imagine Dorothy is already screening nannies as we speak."

"Three have passed the initial interviews out of two hundred." She seemed quite pleased with that, on the whole.

"Which seems weird for me," Duo admitted, "but I do not understand you people, and Dorothy is insisting, so. Not arguing."

Mariemaia leaned in, fork dawdling in her rice. "The nanny part or so few people passing the initial interview? Because I can say with a fair degree of certainty that we all had nannies who were instrumental in our raising."

Wufei shrugged. "I didn't have a nanny, per se. But I had tutors, and spent more time with them than most anyone else."

Treize shook his head, a tense motion, and waved one hand before picking up his fork again. "We didn't have one, and Christ, it would have helped."

Dorothy began eating her carrots. "Yes, well. Uncle sent you to military school, to which my father objected madly. There were fisticuffs involved."

Wufei had a feeling the fisticuffs had been about something else entirely. "Military school was the best thing for me. Vingt was better suited for tutors and..." He gestured to Wufei. "Philosophical structure."

That was something Wufei didn't believe for a single moment. Treize's stepfather was lucky that Wufei had given up killing people, although sometimes he was tempted to make an exception. Usually when they had to use the lift for whatever reason. "Poppycock."

"I agree." Dorothy gave an idle hand motion. "Utterly preposterous. I'm still not sure he doesn't deserve to be locked away." Or worse, knowing her.

Wufei could see Treize bouncing an idea around in his head, and then very possibly he lobbed it over the metaphorical fence in his mind. "He did the best he could with a very bad situation. Retrospectively. I'd rather no one feel an urge to turn over old rocks."

"Which I resist entirely because you choose that as an option," Dorothy informed him, and then hummed with enjoyment. "The roasted acorn squash is delightful."

"Thank you," Wufei responded, and they changed the topic just that easily.

Treize dragged the topic back to Mariemaia and her _cough_ 'roommate', slowly unreeling stories of adventures from her with the skill of someone who had mastered deflection decades before.

By the time Wufei brought out dessert, dishes of rich vanilla ice cream on the side, everyone seemed to have settled in together quite well. If anyone had ever told him this was part of his future, he would have laughed at them heartily and told them they were insane.

And perhaps it was a little insane, but he enjoyed Duo's stories of what the Preventers were up to -- what could be shared at least -- and some of the other jaunts. In January they had a trip up to L1 which he wasn't particularly looking forward to because L1 always felt so... staid. He didn't know what else to call it. Perhaps it was simply that he only had one place to call home now and so he felt more settled when he was there.

"That was delicious." Dorothy's hands were both laced across her midsection. "Now I need a nap."

"I can clean up if you all want to head to the parlor," Treize offered, leaning down a little to let some animal lick his plate under the table. Somewhere in this world, Wufei was reasonably certain his grandmother was having utter conniptions because not only had she always told him that animals had a place and it was not in the house, but she would have absolutely hated one licking off of a plate used by humans. "I've got to fetch a couple of things but then we can open presents."

"Oh, I do love presents!" Mariemaia was so bright. They were fortunate that she'd adjusted well to her father being more of a vague presence in her life than participating in full on contact fatherhood. It wasn't as if her adjusting or not would've changed his capability to participate, but Wufei was so glad it had settled out. 

"I'll put up the food and then drag gifts out of hiding. Unless it's been found already."

"It's been found." Both voices came simultaneously, and Wufei shared a conspiratorial smirk with Mariemaia.

"Well that wasn't creepy at all," Duo told them. "You sneaky bastards."

"Ah, but you're wrong. There's one gift left, and I hid it at _someone else's house_." That was rather triumphant, as he took the goose into the kitchen.

Wufei gasped. "Unfair!" Well. Not really, and he did rather enjoy surprises. He wondered what it was going to be as they meandered into the parlor that for far too many years had been used as a secondary meeting room. The electrical outlets along the walls still showed permanent scuff marks, although none of it seemed to bother Treize. Perhaps it was the strangeness of being raised in a house like this as opposed to being born on a colony that was steadily decaying.

The tree was immense, standing twice as tall as Wufei or better. They'd required ladders and a great deal of leaning to get the thing decorated, and Treize had made confused faces at first when Wufei had talked about doing it themselves years ago. It wasn't a holiday that he'd celebrated before Treize, but he'd come to enjoy it over time.

"Did you put this up yourselves?" Mariemaia asked, looking at it with a critical eye.

Wufei scoffed. "The answer is the same as it was last year, Mariemaia. Yes. We did indeed put it up ourselves."

"I can tell because the professional ones don't bother decorating the back. So which one of you squeezed in between the wall and the tree on a ladder?" Her eyes were dancing in amusement.

Wufei sniffed. "Me. Very carefully. Until we reached the top bits, in which case your father had better reach than I did. Also, a professional should take more pride in their work."

"It's very..." She compressed her mouth slightly, and gave him a sly look. "White and blue."

"Y'know," Duo murmured thoughtfully. "I'm not even sure which one of them made that choice."

Which was, perhaps, a legitimate criticism. Treize leaned toward royal blue and Wufei generally preferred navy, but they were both quite fond of those colors in any given combination. Toss in silver and it was perfect. "We like it." His voice was bland, eyebrows only slightly raised.

She leaned in to jostle him gently. "I'm not teasing; I just find it funny. Cute. You're cute with father."

He was too old to blush. It was honestly ridiculous. He nudged her in return. "Do you think it's your present he's been hiding?"

"It might be both of ours." 

Duo was standing over on the other side of the tree, staring up at it, apparently deeply pleased and not judging as he watched Dorothy inspect the ornaments. "They're each one unique." Which was one of the things he'd loved about it. They had wandered through a store and randomly chosen the ones they found most pleasing, all in the blue and white and silver, and it had been fun. Just because it pleased them. Because they could, and it had been fun to pick them. Treize liked blown glass and filigree and delicate things, and Wufei liked the ornaments that looked like things, and there was joy in it.

"It's very nice," Dorothy said. "I was just thinking about traditions. We'll have to start making some of our own."

"It's always best when you have your own," Wufei agreed. He and Treize didn't get excited about most gift-giving holidays. They made random small purchases for one another all the time, fidgety little things or chocolate or something interesting.

He'd gotten Treize desk magnets, and some milk chocolates with mango caramel filling that he liked, and that seemed quite sufficient to please them both. He could almost guess that Treize had gotten him a book, something he'd seen in the store that seemed sufficiently interesting, and then he would make Wufei read to him. Sometimes that meant in depth histories from centuries ago and sometimes it meant delightfully popular trash from the young adult section. Wufei could never tell which it would be, but it was always quite entertaining.

The sound of the front door opening was accompanied by the whistle of wind, and it was shut again in very short order.

"I almost wanna jump up and yell surprise when he comes in." Duo was grinning at the very notion.

"Oh god, don't," Dorothy hissed, grabbing his upper arm as a warning. 

"I'm afraid it's not going to make for a very good surprise," Treize declared as he stepped into the parlor, something wrapped in a fleece blanket clutched against his chest.

"What on Earth is..."

The kitten that poked its head up out of the blanket mewed and then yowled just a bit, mouth open wide, green eyes peering around in curiosity. Somewhere, Tristan hissed and took off, probably going up the stairs to protect the area he believed belonged to him and him alone.

"Oh, Father." Mariemaia's voice wobbled a bit.

"You had said you wanted one. There's the appropriate accoutrements, food bowls, carrying case, pet passport." He approached her, holding the kitten out for the handoff with care.

"And now you have your very own garbage cat." Wufei was entirely pleased to make the statement, although it wasn't so much a garbage cat as An Unfortunate Occurrence in which Galahad had found himself poking his nose into strange places when he'd managed to get out of the Trevelyans' home by accident and had come home toting a kitten in his mouth that resembled Tristan quite a bit.

Cats tended not to do things like that unless the kitten was quite alone, so Treize considered it a rescued garbage cat rather than a pet that Galahad had stolen. He was smiling, pleased as he watched Mariemaia take the bundle, and stroke the bridge of its nose. "Who is very sweet, so I think it will be a good match."

"Thank you." The kitten seemed to be quite taken with her, as well, and was shortly climbing up her arm and exploring her shoulder, giving squeaky mews in her ear. "I wanted one for the longest time, and I'm so pleased."

Millay settled leaning against Treize's leg, looking up at the bundle like it smelled interesting. Wufei would have to make sure that curiosity remained unsatisfied. "Joyeux Noël."

Ah, and then Mariemaia went to him and hugged him. It was utterly and completely sappy, and it made Wufei feel warm somewhere at his center. "Right, then. Time for presents. Mari, you're the elf." Tradition was tradition, after all, and if Wufei just so happened to have the kitten handed to him to cuddle while she disseminated the gifts, well. That was just coincidence.

Each gift was well wrapped, and Wufei had written all of the notes except for Dorothy's, which was longer and apparently had demanded snark in French. Wufei could appreciate it much better than he had when he'd begun, but he wasn't able to quite follow a long family in joke. He supposed one would have had to be there to get the joke about Dorothy, the chalice, and the nun.

Then again, she was having a child with Duo, so that should be interesting. Catholicism at least ran rampant amongst all of them so they had a shared religion of some sort. Wufei didn't need to understand it, he could just nod and allow them their in jokes and foibles.

Treize settled in to sit beside Wufei, sliding an arm over his shoulders. There was still a little chill on him from having been outside.

"You're terrible," he murmured, and then leaned over and kissed Treize's cheek, shifting so that he could pet the kitten, too, if he liked.

"I'm rather proud of that one," he smiled, "took me half an hour to get just right. It's a shrine to sacrilege." Treize slid his fingers over to scratch the top of its tiny head. There was an absurd amount of fuzz. Millay was wuffling curiously around under the tree, probably smelling the chocolate.

"Everything feels suspiciously like a book," Mariemaia noted as she sat down.

Wufei shrugged. "It's your father and me. Did you expect something different?"

"Race cars, books and pets." She said it like she was testing the idea as she sat beside Wufei, reaching for the kitten with gentle hands.

Oh. Oh dear god. Race cars. "You aren't allowed to get her a race car," he informed Treize sternly, bracing his hand as the kitten scrabbled at it with tiny claws to get into Mariemaia's.

"Of course not. Now, once she's picked a continent for graduate school -- I'm not about to go randomly exporting cars. The taxes alone..." 

"You have to open the boring ones first," Duo joked, gesturing with one of the books.

Wufei put his hand over his face. "At least don't buy one in red."

Dorothy laughed. "Open the one from us first, Mariemaia."

Treize leaned in and whispered, "Defender," into his ear, which took him a second to parse out, it really did. 

"Okay, Aunt Dorothy and Duo first..." The wrapping in the heavy box left Wufei wondering if Treize and Dorothy had both attended some kind of decor classes, or if it was simply the standard to which they were accustomed. Possibly 

That or they hired the same person to wrap things. Wufei would absolutely believe that if he hadn't watched Treize do it himself.

"Ah, it's lovely, Aunt Dorothy. I particularly like the pattern at the edges." Mariemaia seemed quite pleased by the contents of her gift.

Dorothy hummed. "Yes, indeed. The other boxes have been delivered to Anne in New Port City. It probably wouldn't travel well."

"What is it -- oh." Treize leaned a little, and then looked over at Dorothy with a raised eyebrow. "I suppose it's never too early to start collecting dishes?"

"Every woman should have at least three full sets by twenty-five," Dorothy assured breezily. "At least every Khushrenada-born woman. I'm sure if you check your butler's pantry, Aunt Angeline had at least twelve. Some in significantly larger amounts than others."

Having been in said butler's pantry, Wufei thought she underestimated.

He didn't need to look at Treize to practically pull the face he radiated. "Remind me to let you have a rummage before I donate it to a charity auction. I forget that's there sometimes..."

Wufei made a sound of protest. "We use those for charity functions!"

Dorothy waved a hand as if to say that perfectly proved her point.

"In any case," Mariemaia said, "thank you very much."

"You say that until Anne drills you on technique," Treize smiled, leaning into Wufei a little. Millay had given up on chocolates and was sitting between Treize and Wufei's legs, head beginning to do the slow downward drift that ended in a quick jerk as she realized that she was falling asleep.

"Technique?" Wufei blinked. "Do I want to know?"

"Proper setting and use of a tea set," Dorothy agreed demurely. "You might use them as coffee and tea cups at banquets, but done properly, high tea itself..."

"Oh god save me from what I've gotten myself into." Duo looked a little afraid at the very notion.

Wufei, on the other hand, now understood. "Proper tea ceremony etiquette is a very serious business."

"You should go next," Treize said, nudging Wufei gently, before he leaned down to pet Millay, who gave a whuffing sigh and allowed her head to drop sleepily.

"Should I be suspicious of any of them?" Wufei asked, reaching for the one from Dorothy and Duo first.

"Yes." Duo sat back, and that gave Wufei hope that it wasn't a tea set as he peeled back the wrapping. "I didn't let anyone get you a tea set. I mean, you probably have enough of that."

"I could perhaps use one more," Wufei replied, bland and amused. "No. No, I lie. Dorothy is correct. At least one of those sets serves nearly three hundred people."

"I'm afraid to consider too deeply what else lurks in closets I don't care to open." Treize settled back in, watching Wufei as intently as the rest of them as he peeled the wrapping paper off to reveal a curiously well polished wooden box.

With careful fingers, he pushed the lid open and found inside two butterfly knives, inlaid with sapphire and silver, swirls of color. He picked up one of them and quickly moved it around, fingers easily working. "The balance is perfect. Thank you."

"Thought you might like that." Duo grinned. "Fancy and functional, always a good idea." And he'd never lost the touch; hadn't needed it since that last battle in Sanc, but one never _knew._

Dorothy sniffed. "He won the argument. Said you didn't need another tea set." That was clearly teasing, because she probably knew more about their china situation than Treize.

"Thank you," Wufei said again, and then began unwrapping Mariemaia's gift. It turned out to be a hand knitted scarf, some sort of dark blue chenille that had him immediately wrapping it around his neck and enjoying the feel of it.

Treize grinned over Wufei at his daughter. "Did you make this?"

"With my very own hands," she assured him, and then grinned. "It took forever."

"I appreciate it." He liked it for a number of reasons, but particularly the texture. "I'll wear it often."

There was something warmly pleased about Treize's expression just then, as he moved fingers to stroke at it at the back of Wufei's neck. "He will, too. I'm so pleased you have a perfectly normal hobby."

Mariemaia gave him a wide smile. "It was that or begin collecting the ears of my enemies," she assured him.

"Excellent choice." Dorothy approved.

There was just the package from Treize left for Wufei to open, which felt like books, and Mariemaia was sitting with her own weird book pile as well. God knew what he might have gotten Duo or Dorothy. Somewhere there was a bookstore worker who was either quite pleased with themselves, or still feeling very traumatized by the whole interaction.

"I promise you'll find it fun."

Oh, there was a definite glint in his eye that said it was possibly both of those things simultaneously. "I'm terrified," he lied, making quick work of the wrappings. The first book was a treatise on Nǚjié zú politics of the twenty-first century.

The second was clearly a romance novel.

The cover was quite obviously them, or as close to them as the artist dared to get without being sued; the back cover was in Universal, and embarrassingly serious about itself, the catch line above the description being _LOVE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND BATTLE LINES_.

"It will probably be best consumed drunk," Treize admitted, smirking.

Burying his face in his hands, Wufei didn't bother to try and stop his laughing, mostly because if he had one of them, then so did everyone else except Mariemaia. "I'll keep that in mind. Perhaps it's best if we read it aloud." Which certainly promised a sufficient amount of amusement, to say the least.

"That's good because it's in damn Universal. Apparently the French translation companies are pickier than these big printing houses." And more afraid of being sued, but Treize was all bright, deep amusement. "And Dorothy, just _wait_ until you see what you have."

Which turned out, in the end, to be a novel that was actually by the same author. If anything, the cover was even more lurid, a blond woman held in the gallant arms of a man with a wide rope of hair flowing improbably around them.

At least they'd made Duo taller.

" _Queen's Thief,_ I think," Treize said, pleased as he leaned into Wufei. "Apparently there's a few others in the series that are out of print according to the salesperson."

"Oh my god." Duo brightened, sitting taller. "Tell me there's one where Heero is a warrior prince or some shit."

"Out of print, but I'm attempting to order it. You'll have to bother him with it of course, but as soon as I find it..." He was chucking, deeply pleased with himself, while Dorothy turned the book over in her hands as if overjoyed and horrified at once.

"Tell me you've read at least one of them and the sex scenes are worth the rest of it," she demanded, and Mariemaia let out a peal of laughter.

"I have no idea." Treize gave a loose, pleased with himself shrug. "You'll have to tell me what you think of yours. The salesperson called it 'delightfully trashy', so I have hope."

They were absolutely reading at least a chapter tonight. Aloud, no less. "Go on, Dorothy, open the rest of yours."

"I'm afraid to see what's in here," Mariemaia said quietly, low to Wufei, letting the kitten tap dance on top of the wrapping while Dorothy started into Mariemaia's gift to her.

Wufei shook his head. "I doubt you'll have a copy of the one he gave me. Someone else, on the other hand..." Totally open as a possibility.

He heard her give a little exhalation of relief, while Dorothy revealed a hat from her package. "Oh, it's _darling_."

Made of cashmere merino, it was soft and elegant in ecru with a twisted rib cuff and a brioche stitch that gave Wufei a headache just considering it. "I'm so glad you like it!"

It was rather her color, and Wufei considered it a choice that might actually make it into her expansive rotation. "That's impressive," Treize remarked.

"Mmm, I know." No one ever had to worry about false modesty in Treize's family. "Aunt Dorothy's was the most difficult."

"Notoriously picky, I think you meant," Treize said, eyeing and then starting to unwrap his own gift from Mariemaia.

Mariemaia laughed. "Well. That rather is the pot calling the kettle, Father."

Treize also had a scarf of the ridiculously soft chenille, although his came in alternating bands of a dark royal blue and white, and was quite a bit longer than Wufei's.

"I'm so proud that you have a normal hobby -- it's very nice!" It was going to end up tucked into the dog walking coat, Wufei knew, because it did have a certain alluring softness. It certainly didn't hurt that those were Treize's favorite colors.

"Duo's turn next!" And for some reason, Wufei knew with absolute certainty that he had something other than knitted things in his package from Mariemaia. That was far too brightly spoken.

Duo's gift was hugely bulky, but hadn't been that heavy seeming, and now that he started to unwrap it, it seemed obvious what it was. Antlers. Treize's daughter had given Duo a set of Antlers, wrapped in what he could only guess was a massive elk skin to keep them padded. "Okay, this is fucking cool. This is going on a wall."

The pained expression on Dorothy's face was worth the horror of the antlers themselves. "Must we?"

"Oh yeah." He leaned back, grinning at her, as he wielded the antlers at her to look at. "These are cool as hell."

Dorothy looked at Mariemaia. "I'll blame you if he decides to wear them in a parade at some point."

"Oh like hell I won't," he laughed, looking completely delighted. "Thank you, Mariemaia. This is great. I have a dead animal and porn that I'm in. What more could a guy ask for?"

And when he put it like that, well.

It was quite impossible to argue.

* * *

Duo and Dorothy had left with presents and well wishes, and it was edging up a bit past midnight when they all parted ways. He had to nudge Millay off the floor and take her out for one last bathroom break before they rolled up the stairs. Mariemaia looked gleeful, and he had set up the kitten's litter, water and food in her suite for the moment, with its carrier serving as a safe space for it in her bedroom.

He would've been pleased to have her come to Brussels for graduate school, but he wasn't going to pressure her because everyone had their preferences, and she had lost enough of them early on that he was ever mindful.

By the time he was back inside, Millay climbing the stairs ahead of him, he was sure that Wufei would be safely ensconced in their bed. He wasn't wrong, either, because he was, book in hand, mouth firmly held so as not to break out into an outright grin.

"This is atrocious. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I suppose I was recognizable when I went into the store and just happened to find the right salesperson." He stretched for a moment, shoulders and vertebra popping before he sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. "The you on the cover looked pretty close. Though I recall a lot more tamped down frustration, and less of that pink cheeked fawning."

"Possibly more yelling," Wufei agreed, and laid down the book so that he could roll across and drape an arm around Treize's waist. "It's delightfully trashy. Weilin has just fallen victim to Thomas's kabedon and is looking up at him with a soulful fiery gaze. I feel sure there must be a sex scene to follow."

"Fallen victim to his what? Is that a sword?" He leaned into it, dropping boots on the floor and trying to squirm out of his sweater without displacing Wufei.

Wufei shifted, kissed at the base of his spine. "No, no. It's that thing where someone leans in close and puts their arm on the wall and sort of pins you there."

"Ohh." Warm mouth on skin was always a perfect distraction, and he closed his eye, exhaling so he could focus on the sensation. Every time, it went right down to his balls. "Soulful and fiery, huh?"

A hum of agreement sounded, and Wufei sighed against his skin. "Soulful and fiery. I'm quite sure I couldn't manage to make a face like that if I tried."

"Outraged? Volcanic?" Treize reached back a hand to stroke at Wufei's upper back, just enjoying the sensation. He wasn't quite tired, and the plan had been to sleep very late and have sort of a late Christmas brunch at the hotel Duo and Dorothy had invaded. "Your mouth pulls down, so fiery, yes."

The chuckle felt good, and then Wufei rolled to the side so that he could see him. "Yes, well. Fiery perhaps. Simultaneously soulful? Doubtful." Reaching for Treize's hand, he kissed the knuckles, and then turned it so that he could kiss the open palm. "Get undressed. I'll read to you. It's terrible and I quite like it."

"What's the general plot?" He palmed Wufei's jaw as Wufei pulled back, and leaned down to kiss him. Clothing was easy to get off, and he tried not to pass up an opportunity.

"Does it need one?" Wufei murmured when they parted. Then he smirked. "Weilin is a political prisoner because his clan fought against invasion and lost. Thomas laid claim to him to prevent any terrible atrocity befalling him as the last battle was quite vicious and he oh so clearly needed protection from other factions. Weilin hasn't bothered to explain that he's actually the clan leader and they'll be sending assassins out to rescue him."

" _Thomas?_ Really?" He finally stood up, unzipping his slacks and appreciating both Wufei's wicked smirk and the way the sheets draped over his backside. "I can see that Thomas is an idiot. We're off to a good start."

"Mmm, yes. Quite. Shall I read to you, then? I suspect it should be steamy quite soon." Yes, well. The bookstore employee had said as much.

He laid down on his stomach beside Wufei so he could read along, sort of, and drape an arm over his backside, nursing a comfortable low level of arousal. Wufei leaned over, kissed his cheek, and began to read.

_"I won't belong to you!" Weilin tilted his chin, and there was fire in his gaze as he stared up at Thomas. "You're an invader, no better than a common thief!"_

"Oh, Christ." Treize couldn't keep down the chuckle, because was that how people thought it had gone? It had perhaps been a little melodramatic, but stress had been high and he'd been the one acting like an idiot, not Wufei. "And then he kisses him next, right?"

"Oh, yes," Wufei agreed. _"You need kissing," Thomas informed him. "And you need kissing badly. Perhaps that would be sufficient to remind you of your place in this."_

"At least he has some good decision making capability, though maybe less talking." As if kissing would remind anyone of their place, but he supposed that was what made it silly.

 _"With that, Thomas leaned in and took Weilin's chin in a firm grasp, tilting it upward as he swooped in and laid claim to what was his. Weilin's mouth opened in a gasp, and he dived inside, tongue teasing against tongue. Thomas could feel him go pliant in his grasp and knew that he had won this battle, at least."_ Wufei grinned. "See? It's terrible. I like it."

He was chuckling, leaning into Wufei, shoulder to shoulder and letting his hand trace along Wufei's spine. "He's kissed your character into submission. That's not usually how that goes..."

"Hmmm, no. Usually we yell a bit and then the kissing comes in," Wufei agreed. "Shall I keep reading?"

"Yes." He shifted, kissed the edge of Wufei's shoulder. "Please. I'll be disappointed if they don't fuck against that wall. Somehow without lube."

"Or prep," Wufei agreed. _"Weilin moaned, a bare wisp of sound, his entire body pressed to Thomas, the length of him momentarily tightening in awe of the power Thomas had over him, and then going lax because no one had ever kissed him so well before this, and he thought then that it was possible no one would ever kiss him that well again. "Please," he whimpered, arms going up to slide around Thomas's neck."_ Wufei didn't bother hiding his laughter, because yes, it was quite trashy. "Dear god."

Treize couldn't stop laughing, mouth pressed against Wufei's shoulder like he could muffle himself. "Oh, oh shit. Are you in awe, Wufei?"

"I can't say whether it's awe or general horror or some combination thereof," Wufei declared, and snorted. "Probably the latter."

"He's gone from pissed off to begging, I'm curious what he's begging for..." He didn't think they'd get as far as a full chapter, but it was worth it for the persistent urge to laugh.

"As if there could be any question," Wufei told him. _"There," Thomas declared, pulling away from him. "That's precisely how you should be. Beautiful and begging and spread open beneath me for the taking." At that, Weilin blushed, face turned away from him as if embarrassed by what Thomas said, and Thomas pressed against him, knee sliding between Weilin's thighs."_

"I'm going to be disappointed if he just whips it out." He pushed down the laughter, and kissed at Wufei's shoulder a little more idly. Treize would have liked to say that the words made more sense a decade later than they had when everything was fresh, but they didn't; he just wasn't angry about it anymore, and Wufei's voice reading to him was lovely and familiar. "Not very good foreplay."

 _"Weilin moaned again, and found himself pressing more tightly to Thomas. The heat in his cheeks rose with his embarrassment, but he couldn't help the way that Thomas made him feel, or the sheer joy of being embraced thusly. "Yes," he told Thomas. "Yes!"_ Wufei paused. "Because clearly there's nothing hotter than consent. Which is true."

"Enthusiastic consent. I wonder if Dorothy's has the bondage uniform she made him wear forever." Or maybe she hadn't made him wear it and he'd liked it. It was hard to guess about other people's choices.

Wufei dropped his head to the pillow and muffled his laughter. "I don't want to think about it."

He rubbed gently at Wufei's back, feeling the laughter against his fingers, his mouth. "You can't stop now, you have to tell me what bad choice of sex position the author went with."

"Oh, it'll be against the wall, I know it." When he raised his face, there was no hiding the smirk on it. "We tried that. It did not go well."

"The ab muscles I pulled, or the friction burn on your back?" It was easy to laugh at the memory. "But that was face to face, we haven't tried the other way..."

"Both. And our bed is a great deal more comfortable." Wufei slid a bookmark into place and laid the book on the nightstand. "Happy Christmas, Treize."

"Happy Christmas, Wufei. Weilin." He laughed, nudging at Wufei to get him just a little closer. "Thank you. Today was wonderful."

"Mmm." Rolling over, Wufei draped an arm over Treize's chest. "It was, rather, wasn't it?"

"It was." His fingers idled at Wufei's wrist, tracing over the bones, the wrist watch he often forgot to take off. The contact made him feel stupidly warm, pleased with their situation. "She's grown up to be a terribly mature woman."

Wufei hummed. "Anne did a good job. We should ask her to help raise our next child, too."

He let his head relax onto the pillow, looking at Wufei. "Anne did an amazing job. She did always want..." A child with him, and that was a complicated sort of thought that stuck in his mind as he petted at Wufei's arm. "It worked out well."

"Mmmmhm. As soon as you're pregnant, we'll enlist her to help," Wufei replied, looking up at him, brows twitching with amusement. 

"Oh, are we going to try that tonight?" He leaned over to kiss him then, sliding his arm between the mattress and Wufei's body.

Wufei let out a steady breath, then yawned. "I'm feeling lazy tonight." Probably because he'd spent so much time in the kitchen, at a guess. At least tomorrow would be nothing more exciting than brunch.

He leaned over Wufei to turn off the bedside light. "And it's late. It's tomorrow already. Sleep or...?" He was always happy just to feel, body to body, as Wufei knew.

"Lazy Christmas sex," Wufei decided. "If Mariemaia weren't next door, I'd say there should be lazy Christmas sex under the tree. Or close by, in any case." Yes, because there was just something about the light from the tree. They certainly both knew that, because they'd indulged more than once before finding themselves with company.

"Once she goes to see Anne," Treize promised, leaned in to kiss him again, hands on Wufei's hips to pull him over. Lazy Sex made him want to grab the lube, too.

Lazy sex was sometimes the best, because they could just squirm and rub against one another, and sometimes it went further and sometimes it didn't. It just depended on the day and the urge, and Wufei shifted, kissed him one more time. "Yeah. I think good lazy sex is my favorite kind."

"I just enjoy feeling you." He enjoyed the kissing and the teasing, the press of Wufei's hips against his own.

"Mhmmm." Wufei managed to hook a leg around Treize's. "Yes. Everything just feels so good with you."

He bent his leg slightly, pulled the friction closer, fingers sliding down to cup Wufei's ass. "Love having you warm in bed with me."

"Love being warm in bed with you," Wufei sighed, and they slid into place, just the way they liked to be. His mouth was so warm and sweet against Treize's, tongue slipping inside, and their noses rubbed against one another, gentle and easy.

It was low arousal, both of them hard and rubbing against each other, lazy and sweet; Wufei tasted like toothpaste and his hair smelled like fruit and kitchen, and he loved the weight of him on top, the friction of movement. 

No romance novelist would get that right.

"God, you're..." Wufei sighed and kissed him again. "Way better than some guy named Thomas."

He hummed agreement against Wufei's mouth, giving a solid rocking thrust of his hips up against Wufei's. "I think that's because you know exactly your place in the world. On top."

Wufei laughed, then, and sex was so much better when laughter was an option. "I love you, you know."

On his worst days, he didn't know why, but he never denied it. "Yes. Point of pride at this point." Wufei squeezed his arms, and Treize laughed, kissing him again. "Can't imagine a world without you here with me."

With a huff of breath, Wufei leaned in, head pressed against Treize's shoulder. "No. No, I can't, and oh, that. That's good, that's good. Let's..."

He kept a good press of one hand on Wufei's back, and slid the other hand between their bodies, grasping Wufei's and his together. "Yes?"

"Yeah." Wufei nodded, leaned in, caught his mouth, and kissed him again, whining a little. "Yes. Yes, yeah, yes, that's.. this is the best lazy sex."

He loved those whines, the swallowed down impulses they indicated; they were always quieter, whether there were guests or not, but he felt the urge to keep it down a little more. "You feel so good, so so good..."

"Yes, yeah, way, way better than, so much better," Wufei muttered, then gasped and buried his face in Treize's throat, trying to keep himself quiet, hips bucking a little harder. "Please, please, please, I..."

Treize squeezed, rocking up counterpoint a little faster, just trying to get that little extra friction they needed, the clutching against Wufei's back. "Huh, c'mon, you're so beautiful, feels so good."

"Love you," Wufei gasped, and his hands were on Treize, on his face, pulling him in and kissing him. "Love you, love you, I want. I want, I, yes. Yes, please."

Please. Please, and he was close, he was so close to the edge, Wufei's fingers on his jaw, kissing him, wrapping him up tight and undeniable. He kept stroking, rocking, rutting against Wufei, feeling Wufei breathing just as hard against his mouth as he was, and somehow that flipped the switch and he could let go.

By the time the white-blue-gold-orange sparks faded, Wufei was shivering atop him, fingers clenched tight on Treize's shoulders. "Fuck. Fuck, I, you're, yes. Yes, yes." Yes, and after a moment he relaxed, sprawled out over Treize.

He gave Wufei's softening dick one last stroke and brought his hand up to his mouth for a moment, feeling limp and shivery and very comfortable. "Best kind."

Definitely the best kind, and he wasn't surprised when Wufei leaned in and kissed him, tongue darting inside to taste. "Mhm. Best." He sighed and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Lazy sex. I'll get a flannel."

"Oh." He flexed his arm a little, and tilted his head a little to kiss him back. "If you must."

"Mhm." He would, absolutely, but he kept kissing Treize for a moment, anyway.

He indulged Treize for a moment longer before he relaxed and didn't try to stop Wufei from sliding off of him. Every inch of him was blissed out, and perhaps a little overfed, and he was glad he'd set an alarm so they would actually make it up in time for the brunch, though he had a feeling the animals would wake them up no matter how much he wanted to sleep in.

By the time he came back, the flannel was still warm, and he wiped off Treize, leaning in and kiss him again before he slid into bed beside him. "Should probably brush our teeth, but I feel warm and loose and I'd rather not," Wufei admitted, yawning. "Just want to lie here with you."

He fished for the duvet at the end of the bed without trying to displace them as he moved, and nodded against Wufei. Pulling the duvet up over them was the perfect addition. "All I can ask for." Mariemaia had called them cute three or four times, but it was much more importantly a place of understanding.

A place just for them.

And their ridiculous romance novel.


End file.
